The Blessed and the Cursed
by areallyboredhufflepuff
Summary: When Hermione Granger meets the charming Harry Potter and discovers that she's a witch, her life changes dramatically. Learning to live in the Wizarding World is hard enough without also having to hide that she's a Veela too. Harry becomes her rock as she struggles with this transition, but with secrets of his own has Harry finally found someone he can confide in too?
1. Chapter 1: Welcome to Baxton

Hermione Granger was bored. She was also in a completely new village in an empty house with only her books to keep her company. Well, to say it was a house would have been excessive; it was more of a cottage, barely two storeys with the stairs leading up to a small landing with three rooms attached. One was a broom closet, while the others were Hermione's new room, tucked away from the rest of the house, and the other an en suite. Hermione had the sound of her own bathroom the moment it had been mentioned as it meant barely having to leave her room to use it. The cottage had been built a little way into a forest by the side of Baxton, the village she now lived in, leaving her a little cut off from society but she didn't mind. In fact, she preferred it that way. In her almost fifteen years of life, Hermione had never been a highly social girl, usually finding solace in her books and studies. This behaviour increased dramatically over the last couple of years as the few friends she had seemed to turn on her; boys were suddenly more interested in her but became very hostile and bitter when she refused their advances and other girls, including her old friends, ignored her or belittled her for no reason that she could find. Hermione enjoyed being alone, but she quickly found out that being ostracised and ignored entirely was not all that thrilling. Hence, she created her own shell to hide in, filled with books and magic and faraway places, places where wonderful things happened, where she was accepted… where she could feel safe.

Her mother, Marie, was a writer by trade but was taking advantage of the local scenery to get some fresh air and inspiration. Ever since they had moved to Baxton a little over a week ago, Hermione felt like she had barely seen her mother. Marie had taught her how to cook for herself, do the laundry, keep the house tidy and all the other important aspects of life just in case she ever found herself in a situation where she was alone for a while, such as this. Hermione knew how to look after herself at home, but it was going out into the world that she worried about. She loved to go walking, exploring places, listening and watching the world go by, and while she loved to do this alone, she also felt very vulnerable when she did. Should anything happen to her while she was out, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to defend herself, and with no friends and an often-vacant mother, Hermione felt there was nobody she could rely on all the time to help her. That was not to say that Marie was a bad mother, on the contrary she was very loving and caring for Hermione. Her flaw was that she also loved her work and her priorities could sometimes focus on her career more than her daughter.

Hermione set down her book on the bed. She had been reading for the last few hours and her eyes were beginning to strain. Sighing heavily, she grabbed her coat from her desk chair and headed out, deciding that she couldn't avoid Baxton for the rest of her life so she might as well check it out now. It was a fifteen-minute walk from the cottage to the village and Hermione was already wishing she had stayed home by the time she reached it. But she was here now and there was no point in going back yet. Baxton was not exactly a popular village; there were a few takeaways, pubs and independent shops, a library (that Hermione felt she would be visiting more frequently than anywhere else), a small shopping centre and a chapel. The most noticeable building in the entire village, however, was the large manor that sat atop a hill nearby. The main building was surrounded by trees but Hermione found that the roof and spires could be seen from practically anywhere in Baxton. She wondered who could possibly live in such a well-to-do house while living in a tiny place like Baxton.

Soon it was gone midday and Hermione felt peckish. She was relieved to find out that the library had a café, so she found herself a particularly comfy armchair, a volume by an author she liked, a hot chocolate and a muffin and relaxed there for a while. It was mid-afternoon before Hermione dragged herself away from the library and began to make her way back home. As she approached the edge of the forest Hermione suddenly felt a twinge; a sudden curiosity for what the rest of the forest looked like. She figured that her cottage wouldn't be too hard to find her way back to, even if the forest was as large as it looked, so she ventured off the stone path that would have taken her home and headed away into the trees.

This is where Hermione felt most content. She could hear the birds singing in the branches above her, the leaves would sway in the wind and rustle together and she was sure she could hear a river nearby. The sound of nature at its peak was wonderful and she felt she could get truly lost in it. Hermione continued to walk, thinking about everything from where her life was going to how nice the muffin she had eaten was. Hermione often found herself lost in thoughts like this, especially in places she felt comfortable. She was so lost in her own thoughts in fact, that she didn't notice the birds stop singing and the sound of rushing water veer away from her. She didn't notice that she had walked back onto a stone path, but not one that lead to the cottage. Hermione only stopped and took in where she was when she reached a stone bridge with a sign screwed to the wall, revealing that this was Baxton Square. Hermione felt this was rather odd; surely the Square of a village should be at its centre? Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about going into Baxton Square. The trees were obviously missing, leaving a cloudy sky above the area, looking very dreary and deprived. Still, she had said she would explore Baxton and she guessed this still counted as part of the village, so she crossed the bridge.

Instantly Hermione felt uncomfortable. There were very few people around and those that weren't hiding in shadows didn't seem like people you wanted to interact with. Many were riddled with dirt, clothes were torn and patched up and some appeared to be missing lots of teeth. They would snarl and cackle and grin menacingly at Hermione as she passed them, praying her insecurities were not showing. As Hermione walked she thought that the shops in the Square were very unusual; one was an apothecary with strange ingredients in the window, another was selling brooms that looked very battered, but Hermione felt were not used for sweeping, and another seemed to be selling second-hand wands. Hermione assumed this was a costume shop of some kind and walked on. At the very end of one of the lanes she saw a sign of an open book with scrawls on it, which she assumed to be a book shop. Feeling that there was at least one normal shop in the Square, she entered.

The store was very dark, lit only by a few candles and a couple of small windows which let in very little light. A phonogram in the corner was playing an old song on a record that sounded like it could have been from the second world war which Hermione found very eerie. There was also nobody that she could see tending to the shop, there was nobody at the counter or even browsing the aisles. Hermione thought they must be checking stock in the back of the shop so she made her way through some of the aisles. Any thoughts she had that this was going to be a normal shop were lost only a few seconds later; the books on the shelves had titles involving how to look after dragons, the perfect ways to brew different potions, even curses and spells from centuries past. Hermione was starting to wonder what kind of Square this was when she thought she heard something shuffle nearby. She glanced around but there was nobody there.

"Hello?" she called out to the room but the only reply was the music from the phonogram. She returned her attention to the books, browsing their different titles. She was just reaching for a book named "Dark Lords and their Downfalls" when a hand with bony fingers grasped her wrist. Hermione gasped and turned to see a bald man about the same size as her with crooked teeth, dressed all in black, stood beside her, grinning.

"What you doing, pretty one?" he snarled, his breathing heavy and rough, "All alone in places like this, could land yourself in trouble."

"I- I was… I was, um-" Hermione stammered before the man cut her off.

"Lost for words, sweetheart? You dumb as well as lost, ay? I'll knock some sense into ye!" the man yelled and lifted his other fist. Hermione flinched, expecting the blow to come… but it never did. She heard the first swing and connect but it wasn't with her. She opened her eyes and saw that the man's arm had ben grabbed by another hand, this time belonging to a boy. He was facing away from Hermione so she couldn't tell any of his features except for his untidy black hair.

"You will do no such thing, Gregory," the boy said, his voice calm but the venom in his tone was clear. "I hope these aren't threats you make often, and _especially_ not to Hogwarts students. Beating underage wizards isn't a pleasure of yours is it?"

"Of course not, Mr Potter, of course not," Gregory whispered as he released Hermione and slunk away, hunched over.

"That's good to hear. I expect your account reports tonight, Gregory."

"Yes, Mr Potter, of course…"

The boy named Potter turned to Hermione, his eyes stern but at the same time warm and kind behind his round glasses. Hermione thought she could see some kind of mark beneath his hair on his forehead but didn't want to stare.

"Come with me," he whispered. Hermione, having no wish to stay in this shop any longer, particularly not alone, followed the boy named Potter out of the shop and back into Baxton Square. He turned and lead her down several back alleys, pathways and nooks and crannies before coming to an alley with a dead end. Against one of the walls was a cast iron staircase leading up to a single green door, which they approached. Potter leaned in close and whispered something that Hermione couldn't hear, causing the door to open with a _clunk_ and swing inwards.

"Please, come in," Potter gestured for Hermione to follow and she agreed. Suddenly she wondered why she was following this complete stranger. This boy had just saved her skin, admittedly, but he was still just that: a boy from the Square. Yet she felt she could trust him. He had influence over the man in the shop and seemed to know how to look after himself, meaning that, at least for now, he would probably be able to keep her safe too. She just needed to get home. And had she heard him correctly before? "Beating underage _wizards,"_ he had said, hadn't he?

"Take a seat, make yourself comfortable," Potter said as he entered the room behind Hermione and hung his jacket on the coat-hanger. He was wearing a black collar-shirt and matching jeans and shoes, looking as if he was about to go to a funeral. Hermione took a moment to observe the room as Potter walked over to a nearby desk with what looked like a cauldron on top of it, steaming away. The room was thin but long with bookcases lining one of the walls until it reached a door at the end. Against the far wall was a sofa with a coffee table and an armchair beside it and against the other longer wall were diagrams, blueprints and other documents pinned to a large noticeboard. Beside this was the desk that Potter was now stood in front of, removing different leaves and ingredients from one of the drawers (he seemed to be taking more out of one particular drawer than Hermione thought would fit in the entire furniture piece). Potter flicked his wrist and lights dotted around the room illuminated dimly, giving some warm lighting. Hermione assumed they had motion sensors in them. He glanced at Hermione and then gave a double-take when he realised she wasn't moving. "You're safe here, really. Please, sit."

Hermione, still feeling nervous, made her way over to the armchair as Potter added a maple leaf and what Hermione hoped wasn't an eye to the mixture he was brewing. She sat and instantly felt more comfortable being off her feet, despite it not being too long ago that she was sat reading in the library.

"Baxton Square is not a place you want to be if you don't think you can defend yourself," Potter said as he read one of the parchments on the wall, "and if you can't do that then at least make sure you can _pretend_ that you can defend yourself. This place can be worse than Knockturn Alley on a bad day."

Hermione was feeling more and more confused as Potter talked, which he stopped doing as his brew began to bubble with the heat. He jumped back over to it and lowered the heat before scooping some into two cups that he took from one of the drawers. Stirring the brew one last time, he walked over to Hermione with one cup and went to hand it to her. Hermione stared at the cup for a moment, remembering what she thought had seen go into it and wondering just how safe it was to drink.

"Soothing potion," Potter said, "help settle the nerves."

Hermione stared at him for a moment. He must be mad; who called them "potions" unironically? Harry sighed kindly when Hermione didn't move.

"If I wanted to harm you I would have done it already," he chuckled. Hermione didn't want to be rude and Potter seemed sincere so she thanked him for the drink and sipped it. Immediately she felt better, the drink warm and slightly thick, a taste of caramel lingering in her mouth. "Taste alright?" Potter asked as he sat on the sofa against the next wall and Hermione nodded in return, taking another sip. "So, what were you doing in Baxton Square, Miss Granger?"

Hermione was a little taken aback by the fact that Potter knew her name but so many strange things were happening that she moved past it.

"I live here. Well, I live in Baxton village. And it's Hermione, by the way."

"Hermione it is, then. And I know you do, it's my business to know what's happening, what I want to know is _why_ you're in Baxton Square."

"I was exploring the village," Hermione answered, "as I was heading home I decided to check out the forest too and found my way here. I haven't lived here long, I still don't really know the area."

Potter nodded and sipped his own drink. There was silence between them for a moment before Potter asked another question that left Hermione completely baffled.

"So why have I never noticed you at Hogwarts?"

"What?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows raised.

"Hogwarts, our school; I don't think I've seen you around."

"That might be because I don't go there," Hermione chuckled.

"Oh, Beauxbatons then? Surely not Durmstrang?"

"My mum home-schools me," Hermione revealed, and now it was Potter's turn to raise his eyebrows.

"That must be difficult."

"Not really, she's a writer so she teaches me my English skills, and she knows a bit about maths and science and stuff so I get by with them." Potter shifted forward in his seat and his eyes narrowed on Hermione. She felt a little awkward and shifted slightly, making sure not to stare back into his eyes. "What?" she asked, laughing nervously.

"You don't know, do you?" he asked.

"Know what?" Hermione asked, very confused by the entire situation and even more confused when Potter's look of such seriousness turned to a grin of joy.

"Oh this is perfect," he laughed as he sat forward and stared ahead in excitement, "I've seen Hagrid and Professor McGonagall do this countless times but I've never done it myself… okay, I've got to get this right, can't screw it up…"

Hermione was slightly concerned. Potter seemed to be talking more to himself now than her and she was beginning to think he was truly mad.

"Sorry, Mr Potter-"

"Please, call me Harry," Potter managed to say in-between his ramblings.

"Harry… what do I not know?"

Harry turned and whipped his glasses off his face dramatically, trying to hold a serious face but a smirk breaking through. "You're a wizard, Hermione."

Silence once more. Hermione was dumbfounded.

"I'm… wait, w- what?" she stuttered.

"Well, technically you're a witch but "you're a wizard" sounds so much better. Either way, you're one of them," Harry said, smiling heartily.

Hermione stared at him for a moment.

"You… you are crazy," she said, "you think I'm a witch?"

"I don't think you are, I know you are," Harry replied, smirking.

"Do I look like a witch?!" Hermione shot, suddenly remembering that witches were meant to be old and haggard.

"Yes, of course… I mean, not the witches you'll have grown up hearing about, normal witches and wizards look just like ordinary folk. Hold on, I'll check," Harry said as he placed his glasses back on his face and peered at her, "yeah, you look one."

Hermione looked at the cup she was holding in her hand and slowly placed it on the coffee table.

"What did you put in that drink?" she asked which Harry found funny.

"There's nothing in that brew that shouldn't be," he smiled, taking another sip of his own drink.

"I'm in a dream…" Hermione whispered, before staring back at Harry, "that's what this is, isn't it? This is all a dream, right?"

"I sincerely hope not," Harry said, looking quickly at his own body and pinching himself, "If it is, please don't wake up; I rather enjoy existing."

Hermione laughed weakly and stared at the ground. This was all a bit too much and her head was starting to hurt. She had to be dreaming. She must have fallen asleep in the library and this was just some crazy dream she was having because her brain was still stuck in the book she'd been reading. She just had to go back to sleep again. But, at the same time, she didn't want Harry to disappear; he seemed nice and funny, despite his insane ramblings about wizards and Hogwarts.

"How do you even know I'm a witch?" Hermione asked.

"The fact that you're here is proof enough. Baxton Square is a magical market place with an enchantment on it to keep muggles – non-magic people – away. You can only get here if you're a magical being. Which brings me onto my next point, and you might not like it," Harry said, biting his lip.

"Go on, what else is there?" Hermione sighed, resting her head on one of her hands propped up by her elbow resting on her leg.

"You're not _just_ a witch. You're a veela," Harry said and seemed to tense his face in preparation for her reaction. Hermione, of course, had no idea what this meant and so didn't know how to react. Harry seemed to notice this and clicked his fingers, causing a book to come flying off one of the shelves and land in front of Hermione. "Creatures of immense beauty, gifted in the magical arts with the ability to harness their own kind of magic."

Hermione stared at the book and picked it up.

"Not to sound arrogant but… why is that stuff bad?"

"I think you already know the answer to that, Hermione," Harry said sadly. "I imagine Gregory isn't the first person to talk to you like that?"

Hermione stared at nothing in particular as she remembered all the times she'd been shunned by her friends and harassed by the boys (and a few girls) at her old school.

"The problem with the "immense beauty" part is that, for most people, it can be too much. They become infatuated with veela, going out of their way to impress them, often making a fool out of themselves. Most of the time it's because the veela doesn't have great control over her abilities and it sort of slips out sometimes. Although you can use it to your advantage if you're feeling particularly malicious," Harry smirked. "Also the Ministry of Magic, along with a lot of the Wizarding World, recognise veela as creatures simply because you're not technically human. A ghastly label to have for no other reason than you're a little different. Still, everything you need to know should be in that book."

"So… why is it not affecting you?"

Harry chuckled.

"Let's just say I've developed an… immunity to their advances."

"Is there anything else I need to know about this then?"

"You can turn into a half-human-half-bird creature."

Silence yet again as Harry and Hermione stared at each other.

"Really?" Hermione asked.

"Really," Harry answered.

"H-how? I mean, I'm not going to do it by accident, am I?"

"Maybe, but only when you're angry. And I mean _really_ angry, like "somebody just murdered by dog in front of me" levels of pissed off."

"Good thing I've always been more of a cat person then," Hermione chuckled and Harry laughed a little to. "This is crazy," Hermione whispered, "this can't be real."

"It's as real as I am here in front of you," Harry said as he finished his drink, before stopping for a moment, "then again if you don't think this is real then you probably don't think I'm real either, which kind of makes my point invalid. Anyway, when you realise that this is real and you want to find out more, feel free to find me at the manor on the hill. I'd be more than happy to help you get ready for Hogwarts in September, assuming you want to go, of course."

"You don't live here?" Hermione asked.

"No no, this is just a flat I keep as a sort of safe-house-slash-storage-room. One could argue that Hogwarts is my real home, but the manor in Baxton is where I live away from there."

Hermione, still holding the book, shook her head a little. "I need to sleep… or to wake up, whichever one makes it easier to understand all of this."

"Feel free to head home if you like, I have some business to attend to as it so happens."

"I think that would be best."

"Follow me then," Harry said as he stood. Hermione expected him to head for the door back out to Baxton Square, but instead he lead her to the door beside them leading to another room. They walked into a cosy bedroom, a large bed in the centre of the back wall with other furniture dotted around the room, including a dresser, wardrobe, fireplace, another door leading off somewhere else and a full-length mirror in the corner. It was to this mirror that Harry walked, standing next to it with both his arms outstretched, as if he was presenting it to Hermione as a prize.

"The place you want to go to, does it have a mirror there?" he asked and Hermione nodded, remembering her own mirror in her room. "Then just get a general idea of what the room is like – you don't have to remember every exact detail – and walk through the mirror." Hermione stared at him again and he smiled. "I'm being serious. And remember, feel free to come to the manor when you're ready, Professor Dumbledore will be delighted to have another student at the school. Are you ready?" Hermione breathed in heavily and nodded. "Until next time then," Harry said, bowing his head a little.

"Thank you," Hermione said as she stepped forward. She closed her eyes as she walked towards the mirror, expecting to hit the cold surface any moment. She kept walking for longer than she thought there was distance between herself and the mirror but she expected she had just misjudged it. Eventually she did hit something; a large, heavy obstacle hit her legs and she fell forward, landing on something very soft. She opened her eyes and found herself back in her own bedroom. Once again, she was baffled. She realised she was lying on top of the heavy book and rolled off it, picking it up and placing it on her dresser. It would be gone when she woke up anyway. She caught herself in her mirror again as she turned to her bed and looked at herself. She noticed her thick, bushy hair, the wrinkles around her eyes from reading so much and her front teeth that were so much larger than the others. Well, perhaps her skin was slightly smoother than she remembered. And were her teeth shorter than normal?

"Immense beauty, my arse," she muttered to herself as she collapsed onto her bed and closed her eyes.

 **Kinda short first chapter, I know, just wanted to get something uploaded even if it's just to motivate me to get into writing again (the Xmas holidays have made me lazy, sorry). Hope you guys enjoy this and what I have coming up for it so far, it's a concept I've been working on for a while and been trying to get right.**

 **Thanks for reading and feel free to leave a review, all appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2: Getting Answers

Hermione felt herself wake up but refused to open her eyes. She was far too comfortable on her bed to face the reality that she was now awake, so she stayed perfectly still, pretending she was still sleeping. Who exactly she was trying to fool beyond herself was a mystery even to her, but in her dazed logic it made perfect sense that if she acted like she was still asleep, she would be able to lounge around and do nothing without being judged or bothered. Not that anybody was going to bother her here anyway, unless that Potter boy had some other magic tricks up his sleeve.

Hermione opened her eyes and rubbed them. That name, Harry Potter… why did it still seem so real? It had all been a dream after all, but then why did it feel more like a memory? She must have been lucid dreaming - she'd done it before a couple of times but never that strongly. A shame really; Harry seemed like a nice guy and for a moment, a very brief moment, Hermione might have been a witch. But that's what dreams are for, Hermione supposed. She sat up on the edge of her bed and brushed the hair out of her face. She glanced at the mirror across from her to make sure she looked at least a little presentable and gasped.

"What the-" she whispered to herself and whipped her head around to make sure she was actually seeing what she thought she was; there, resting on the dresser, was a book. It couldn't be the same one, Hermione thought, but she had to be sure. She stood and slowly walked over to the dresser, eyeing the book cover as she neared it. "This isn't real," Hermione muttered to herself as she flicked through the pages of the book, seeing sketches and articles of different creatures from werewolves to vampires and dragons, eventually reaching the page Harry had shown her before: veela. Hermione looked at her own hands as if examining them, looking for something to prove she was still dreaming. She pinched her skin and even slapped herself before deciding she had to be awake.

To make matters worse, now she also had a sore face.

Hermione's head reeled again. This was some kind of prank. It had to be. Was her mother in on it? Was it all a set-up by some local kids? To fool the new girl in the village and make her out to be a fool? This was exactly the type of thing Hermione had been worried about when moving to Baxton. But Harry had seemed so genuine and friendly, why would he want to hurt her? And if this was just a show then it was one of the largest ones she'd seen; what kind of small-time pranksters manage to hide a small community in the woods without anyone noticed, and then transport her home via a _mirror?_

Hermione made up her mind. Harry had said he would be at the manor on the hill, so that's where she was going to go.

She was going to find out what was happening.

* * *

The gates to the manor were highly intimidating. Hermione was already regretting coming, but she had to find out what in the world that Potter boy was talking about. Hermione reached for the handle of the huge, black gate but stopped; it turned on its own and the gate creaked open. Hermione breathed heavily and stepped inside.

The other side of the gates were shrouded by low-hanging trees, such that Hermione almost had to duck to miss the branches. Just as she was wondering if the entire path to the manor would be like this, the air opened and she gasped as she looked around her. She was stood in a huge garden, stone paths interlocking between patches of flowers of all different colours and sizes and bushes and trees with countless fruits growing. The smell was delightful and Hermione instantly felt more comfortable.

She walked slowly, taking in the scene around her. Even the manor seemed more welcoming now, though Hermione saw no life in its windows.

"Good afternoon," a kind voice said nearby and Hermione almost jumped out of her skin. She'd been so lost in the tranquillity of the garden that she hadn't even noticed the man crouched nearby, clipping away at a hedge. He stood, brushing his hands of dirt and smiled. He had a handsome face except for two scars that ran straight across him, though they were faded and did not belittle his looks. He had short, light brown hair and tired eyes, shining green. Hermione did not blame him for wearing a cardigan in this weather, and she felt it rather suited him. "Can I help you?"

Hermione hesitated.

"I, um… Harry asked me to come to the manor?" Hermione said, accidentally making it sound more like a question than a statement. Suddenly she grew nervous and started to wonder if she was completely wrong. Had she been asked here? Were there two manors? Had she just not noticed the other one? Was this Potter boy even real?

"Ah yes, he mentioned you," the man said, making sure his hand was clean before extending it to shake Hermione's. "Remus Lupin, pleasure to meet you."

"And you," Hermione replied with a smile, "I'm Hermione Granger." Remus nodded kindly and gestured towards the manor.

"If you follow that path – just there – and go up the steps you'll reach the door. It should be unlocked, give it a knock as you go in and somebody should be with you."

Hermione thanked Remus and followed his instructions, moving along the pebble path he had pointed out through the rest of the garden. She soon reached a short but very wide stone staircase, stretching at least twenty feet, met by large driveway at the top. There were no cars that Hermione could see, leaving the huge space completely unoccupied. Hermione walked hesitantly over to the large oak door before her, the sheer size of the manor intimidating her immensely.

Opening the door took more force than Hermione expected but she managed it, knocking as she did. As she entered and was met by a huge circular foyer, decorated with flowers, sculptures and paintings - paintings of people who all seemed to be sleeping. Hermione thought this was a very odd taste in art but didn't linger on it. Large archways on either side of the room headed off to different areas of the manor and at the back of the foyer was a small corridor with a set of double doors at the end. A staircase ran against the right wall and looped around the lobby above her, presumably leading to the different levels of the house.

"Hello?" she whispered, not meaning to be so quiet. She called out again, louder this time. When no reply came she took a couple more steps into the room and thought she could hear someone. A grunting or hissing, like somebody struggling with something. Hermione glanced around the room again but saw nobody. Then she realised. How had she not noticed? The noise wasn't on the same level as her, it was higher, somewhere above her. She looked upwards and gasped.

There, dangling from the centre of the room, was a huge chandelier, shining even in low lighting of the lobby. And clinging to the chandelier was a man, twisting at something with great force.

"Holy-" Hermione muttered as she hopped closer, "are you okay?!"

"Yes! I'm fine…" the man grunted, "al…most… got it... there we are!" Suddenly he let go of the chandelier and came plummeting to the ground. Hermione's heart dropped as he neared the ground, but this insane man somehow managed to land on his feet and fall into a roll, jumping back to stand mere feet in front of Hermione with a cheeky smile. "Sorry about that, one of the clasps was loose. You must be Hermione?"

Hermione nodded nervously, rather taken aback by the hectic introduction. The man bowed dramatically and straightened himself. His hair could only be considered a mane and his stubble looked as rough as sandpaper, but his eyes were kind and warm.

"I am Sirius, of the horrid and most disgraceful house of Black," he said with a smile. Hermione wasn't sure if this was some kind of joke and, if It was, she didn't understand it. "Harry has been expecting you. He's sorting out some stuff that I don't understand right now, but I'm sure he'll want to speak to you. I'll show you to his office."

And so Hermione followed Sirius through the manor, up the huge staircase, past ornaments and paintings that Sirius was trying to talk about and sound sophisticated but was failing, stumbling with his words and pausing to think about what to say next often. After a while he admitted that he really had no clue what a lot of it was all about ("Sorry, Remus is really much better at this than me,") but Hermione didn't mind. She found it rather funny. Soon they reached a black door upon which Sirius knocked and opened.

"Harry?" he called as the door swung open and he stepped inside, Hermione following, "you have a visitor." Hermione stepped out from behind Sirius and saw, at the end of the room, Harry Potter sat behind a large desk, reading a large piece of parchment with one hand and swirling his forefinger around in the air on the other. Hermione thought this was very strange until she saw the spoon in a cup of tea rotating in synch with his finger.

The day was getting weirder by the minute.

The room was quite large with a huge window set behind Harry stretching from the floor almost to the ceiling. A large fireplace sat against the right wall, wide enough for a grown man to stand in, a fire roaring away which Hermione could feel the warmth of even from the doorway. On the left were several armchairs and sofas with a coffee table and the rest of the walls were covered with bookshelves. A large cabinet stood in the corner with glasses and drinks that Hermione didn't recognise. This was a room that Hermione felt she could get comfortable in.

"Oh, I didn't expect you this soon," Harry admitted as he looked up and saw Hermione, placing the parchment he was reading down on the desk. Sirius slipped behind Hermione and left the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Hermione alone with Harry. "So, what can I do for you?"

Hermione wasn't sure herself.

"BE honest with me," she said, walking towards Harry's desk. Harry propped his elbows on his desk and rested his head on his clenched hands as she approached. "How much of this is real?"

"I'm sorry?" Harry said, confused.

"All of this, Baxton Square, magic, the potions, me being one of you, being a… a veela… tell me this is all some kind of prank."

Harry smiled kindly.

"I would, but to do so would be a terrible lie," he said. "Everything I've told you has been genuine. Magic, Hogwarts, wizards and witches, all of it's real. Including you being a veela – which, I should probably mention, might be wise to keep between us for now; you're going to have enough trouble adjusting to the Wizarding World without people judging you for that too."

"But… I can't even do magic-"

"Of course you can't, you haven't even got your wand yet. Well, veela have their own kind of wandless magic too but there's no way you'd know how to use that yet." Harry said.

"And that's another thing," Hermione went on, "even if I was a witch, there's no way I could afford to go, my mum doesn't have the money for that kind of education."

Harry's face blanked.

"Oh," he said, "well in that case I've made a terrible mistake. I'm sorry to waste your time, Sirius will show you out." And Harry returned to the parchment he had been reading.

There was a moment of silence in which Hermione didn't move. Was that it? Were they done? All because she didn't have the money? She hadn't believed she was truly a witch but a bit of her had hoped, thought that maybe she…

"Right," she whispered, "I'll just…" she was half way through turning when Harry spoke again.

"Hermione, I'm kidding," Harry said with a cheeky smile and a wink, "please forgive me, that was cruel. You won't be paying a penny to go to Hogwarts; the school will be supplying everything you need."

"So is there a tax or a loan system or-?" Hermione asked, trying to find the catch in the system.

"No, nothing like that," Harry answered.

"So how do they stay open?"

"By getting funding."

"From who?"

"From me."

Hermione paused.

"You fund the school?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"For the exact reason you just said you couldn't go to Hogwarts. Everyone deserves the right to their education and I hated seeing people, my own friends, struggle to get by because of money issues. So I decided that nobody would be paying to go to Hogwarts anymore. I spoke with Professor Dumbledore and we settled it; I now fund the education of every student admitted to Hogwarts and we have a bursary system set up as well to give students a bit of spending money for their personal lives."

"But that must cost a fortune!"

"To some people. But even if it did, it would be worth it. Education is vital. I can't imagine anything worse than a world of ignorant people, especially if said ignorance only existed because of petty circumstances, like being poor. So, in short, no you won't be paying to go to Hogwarts, you won't be paying for your wand or your robes or your pet – yes, you get a pet too – the school will be."

"You mean _you_ will be," Hermione smirked.

"Is that alright?" Harry asked with a charming grin. Hermione nodded. "Good. Now, I'm afraid I have some clients to talk to but you're welcome to wait here while I deal with them. Feel free to grab some books and peruse my personal library. The left-hand side of that bookshelf, just there, has some basic magic that you can check out if you want to get a head start, or there's books on magical creatures, potions, or even some muggle novels as well. Dobby!"

Hermione thought Harry had blurted out some kind of curse when suddenly there was a small person stood in front of her. Wrinkled and bald with huge ears and eyes the size of tennis balls, a creature about half Hermione's height stood wearing a green, knitted hoodie and odd socks.

"Yes Master Harry?" it asked in a squeaky voice.

"Could you get a drink for Hermione, please?" Harry asked and the creature called Dobby whipped around to face her, smiling widely.

"Oh! Hello miss! I'm Dobby, miss! Dobby the house elf, miss! Would you like a drink miss?"

Hermione, slightly startled, chuckled and glanced at Harry who smiled and nodded that this was normal.

"Um… yes please, Dobby," she answered.

"What would miss like?" Dobby asked, sounding very excited.

"Some Earl Grey tea please."

"Oh, and Dobby - be on standby with refreshments for my clients please. I doubt any of them will be staying long enough to have them but it is customary."

"Right away sir, miss," Dobby said and he disappeared once again. Hermione looked at Harry with wide eyes.

"Dobby the house elf, an employee of mine," Harry said as he rifled some documents. Suddenly there was a burst of green light and another man stood in the room, directly in front of the fireplace. The flames had returned to normal by now but Hermione was certain that the entire hearth had burned green for a few seconds. She stared at Harry again. "I'll explain later," he whispered and turned to face the new man in the room, "good evening Mr Carter, how are you today?"

Hermione took this as her moment to stand aside so she headed over to the bookshelf that Harry had pointed out and found a few books that looked like they were for new starters to magic. She was just sitting down when Dobby returned with a cup of tea for her, bowed and disappeared once more.

Hermione spent some time reading through the book she had found, The Standard Book of Spells Grade 1, and was slowly starting to accept that this really was real. Maybe she really was a witch. Maybe this was a reason she'd always been… different.

Clients came and went and Harry spent what seemed like hours talking about businesses, finances, fundings, profits, losses and many other things that Hermione didn't understand. She assumed that Harry was an investor with these clients and was checking that all of their accounts were in order.

Hermione had worked her way through three different textbooks and was searching for an intriguing fourth when the fireplace burned green once more and an old man walked into the room.

"Ah, Garrick, how are you?" Harry said and stood as the man approached his desk.

"Oh, as good as an old man can be, Mr Potter. And yourself?" The man named Garrick asked, shaking Harry's hand.

"I'm fine, thank you Garrick. Can I have a quick word?"

"Of course, of course," Garrick said and followed Harry to the corner of the room, stood in front of a large window pane, where they whispered together. Hermione didn't mean to eavesdrop but she couldn't help but overhear some small sentences the two were saying.

"I need you to do me a favour…"

Hermione flicked through the first few pages of a large book entitled _Quidditch Through the Ages_ and realised this was some kind of Wizarding sport.

"I just don't think it will work, Harry…"

"The core has never come straight from the source before… one made from the user's own strand could be perfect…"

"I don't know, Harry…"

A quaffle? Bludgers? The Golden Snitch? Hermione couldn't begin to comprehend how they came up with these names.

"We'll be coming to Diagon Alley soon for supplies… please Garrick…"

Hermione sat back down on the sofa just as Harry and Garrick returned to the desk and started rambling on about accounts and statements for a while. Hermione was just reading about the Wronski Feint when the fireplace flashed green again and she realised it was only her and Harry in the room now. Harry was sat at his desk. His hands over his face, rubbing his eyes. He got up from the desk and walked over to the drinks cabinet in the corner.

"Sorry that took so long, I have quite a few clients and those are just the ones that were available today. I'm lucky that I don't have to assess _all_ of them or I'd never leave this room," Harry said as he poured a liquid from a bottle into two glasses and walked over to where Hermione was sitting, handing her a glass and relaxing in the armchair across from her. Hermione picked up the glass and inspected it. She couldn't tell what the drink was but sipped it. The taste hit her hard and she gagged.

"What is this?" she asked.

"Firewhisky," Harry answered, taking a sip without flinching.

"How old are you?" Hermione asked, shocked.

"Fourteen at the end of July."

"And you're drinking?!"

"I'm not a drunk, mum," Harry said sarcastically, "I just enjoy a nice glass after my meeting to help me relax. Not to presume, but you look around about my age, am I right?"

"Fifteen in September," Hermione replied. Harry nodded before taking another drink. "Where are your parents, anyway?" Hermione asked, looking around as if to see them.

"In a graveyard in Godric's Hollow," Harry said nonchalantly, catching Hermione off guard.

"Oh- I'm so sorry, I didn't realise-" she stammered but Harry stopped her.

"Please, don't be. They've been gone a long time."

There was silence for a moment as they both drank.

"Do you mind if… how did they…?" Hermione felt very awkward finishing the question and thankfully Harry knew what she meant.

"They were murdered, thirteen years ago this Halloween, by Lord Voldemort," Harry said as he sipped his drink. Hermione, while sympathetic, looked as confused as he expected she would so he continued, "To make a long story short: my parents were part of the Order of the Phoenix – the society that fought Voldemort during the Wizarding War when he was slowly taking over the Wizarding World – but went into hiding when they had me. A prophecy said that a boy born at the end of July would be Voldemort's downfall and, assuming it meant me, Voldemort found out where my parents were hiding and killed them. When he tried to kill me his curse backfired and he was essentially destroyed. But he's not dead; Dumbledore guessed that he created horcruxes – objects that can hold a piece of your soul in case you die - and worked with the ministry to find and destroy them all. All of them… except one."

Hermione eyed Harry curiously.

"You… you don't mean…" she said, unable to form a proper sentence, but she didn't need to as Harry nodded.

"I'm one of them. You don't get a scar like this by playing Quidditch," he said as he pointed to the lightning scar on his forehead.

"So how do you… _stop_ being a horcrux?" Hermione asked.

"You destroy the vessel carrying the soul fragment. I'd have to die."

Hermione was astounded but Harry said this so nonchalantly that Hermione wondered if they had two different definitions for the word "die".

"Thankfully, Voldemort doesn't seem to be making a comeback any time soon so it's a bridge to cross another day. Right now, our main problem is getting you to Hogwarts. I have a meeting with Dumbledore and the Minister of Magic soon, if we head to Hogwarts now we should be able to get the ball rolling before then," Harry said as he set his glass down and stood from his seat. Suddenly he stopped and looked at Hermione. "You do _want_ to go to Hogwarts, right?"

"Of course I do!" Hermione blurted out, standing up instantly.

"Then we'd best be off," Harry said with a smile. Hermione followed harry over to the fireplace where he grabbed some black soot from a pot nearby. He cast it into the flames and they shifted from red to green instantly. Harry walked straight in and turned to face the room again. Hermione hadn't moved. "It's Floo Powder, completely harmless, trust me," Harry said but Hermione didn't budge. She was staring at the flames, every fibre in her body telling her not to walk in. Harry extended his hand for her. She stared at it for a moment, then at him, then back at the hand and grabbed it. At least this way if she burned alive she wouldn't be burning alive on her own. She walked in and found that the flames were cool rather than scorching, like walking into a stream or the ocean at low tide. "Hold your breath," Harry said and Hermione had just enough time to inhale and close her eyes before Harry called out, "Dumbledore's office!" and the floor seemed to fall beneath them.

* * *

Hermione opened her eyes again she was in a completely different room. A warm chamber towered upwards, filled with books, trinkets, ornaments and more portraits of people sleeping. Hermione was starting to believe this was some kind of trend in the Wizarding world.

"Harry, you're early," a warm voice spoke from nearby. Hermione looked to see an old man in purple robes with a long, trailing white beard and half-moon spectacles resting on his crooked nose.

"Sorry Professor Dumbledore, but this is rather important," Harry answered, brushing ash off his shirt. Hermione felt quite nervous being thrown into this situation with little to no knowledge of what was going on. She scanned the room, taking in what she could of her surroundings. "This is Hermione Granger, Headmaster, the girl I wrote to you about."

"Ah yes, the one who never received her Hogwarts letter. I cannot express how sorry I am at this blunder on the school's behalf, Miss Granger, I hope you can forgive me. I shall have my Deputy on the case immediately to ensure this never happens again."

Hermione felt very nervous and intimidated by this sudden new surrounding but the old man before her seemed very kind. She smiled in response and Dumbledore seemed to accept this as he returned the favour.

"She should be entering fourth year this September, like me, but with no studies completed from the previous years I worry that she may struggle," Harry said.

"Yes, by rights you should join the first years, Miss Granger, but I imagine that would be quite awkward for you, and the last thing we want is to make this transition more difficult on you." Dumbledore paused and stared into space for a few moments. Hermione wondered if he had fallen asleep with his eyes open, as Harry said nothing either. "Harry," Dumbledore said after a while, "I wonder if you could find in your busy schedule time to tutor Miss Granger? Being top of your year, I have no doubt that Miss Granger would be in safe hands under your teaching."

"Of course Professor," Harry nodded and Hermione felt a weight off her shoulders. Harry seemed like a good person and the only wizard she had really talked to, plus he seemed to be smart; Hermione assumed you didn't become the top student of your year easily.

"Very well, I shall have Professor McGonagall make the necessary arrangements. In the meantime, we must get you sorted into your house, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said as he stood from his desk and walked away, looking for something among his contraptions.

"House?" Hermione asked Harry.

"Hogwarts was founded by four of the greatest witches and wizards of their time: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin. They each split the students that came to the school into houses depending on their traits and personalities, named after themselves of course. The Sorting Hat – I think it's on top of that bookcase, professor!-" ("Ah yes! Thank you, Harry!") "- it reads you and sees which house you'd be most suited to. Once you're in a house you will attend classes with those in the same year as you from that house, your living quarters will be in the house's common room and you will earn house points which could win you the House Cup at the end of the year."

"Which house are you?" Hermione asked. Harry paused for a moment.

"I'm in Slytherin," Harry answered, his eyes following Dumbledore as he walked.

"So… so is it a test or exam or something?" Hermione asked, nerves rushing through her again. What if this was just a big mistake? What if Harry had guessed wrong? Surely, she couldn't be expected to perform magic here and now? What would happen when she couldn't do it? Would she be cast out? Left to return to her normal life as if nothing had happened?

"The sorting? No there's not a test… well there is _one_." Harry looked at Hermione as her head shot at him, her eyes wide. "You know how to sit down, right?"

Hermione sighed heavily.

"Yes, I know how to sit down."

"Good. Then you've passed," Harry said as he flicked his hand and a chair from the corner came sliding over to them. Professor Dumbledore was humming to himself as he squeezed back through his tables of trinkets carrying a very battered, tatty hat. Hermione choked a little when the hat seemed to split at the seam and start speaking.

"Bit early for a sorting isn't it, Albus? I haven't finished my song yet," it croaked and Dumbledore chuckled.

"Consider it a special occasion, old friend," he said and the hat grumbled. "Miss Granger, if you'd like to take a seat…"

Hermione took a few cautious steps forward, glaring at the hat, examining it. Of all the things she had seen today this had to be the strangest. A _hat_ that could _talk_.

"Come, come now girl, I haven't got all day," the hat blurted out, startling her. Dumbledore tapped the hat with a "pssh" noise.

"Don't be so harsh. Besides, you and I both know you have all the time in the world," Dumbledore berated and the hat grumbled once more. Regardless, Hermione quickened her pace to the chair and sat. Dumbledore lowered the hat and it spoke again but this time Hermione thought that it was in her head.

"Yes, I am in your head," the hat said, talking slowly and drawing out the syllables of most of its words, "only you can hear me right now. Wouldn't want any personal matters being revealed, now would we?" the hat chuckled, something Hermione had never expected a hat to be able to do. "Now then, let's see… oh, knowledge! A thirst for knowledge and to learn! That's always good… but to what end? For glory? Or wisdom? Or malevolence? Hmm…" the hat paused for a moment and when it spoke again it's tone of voice was different; at first it had sounded tired and sarcastic, but now it was soft, almost sympathetic. "you're afraid… and not just of this, of everything… of what people think of you, of what you are, of what you will become… cast aside that fear, young one, it will only lead you astray… and in regards to your… _affliction_ – don't worry, your secret is safe with me – don't let it control you… learn to harness your powers, use them to your advantage… hiding that side of you is wise for now but don't try and suppress it... you need the right people around you to help you through this… the boy can help you but his housemates are not your friends, at least not right now… muggle-borns are still prejudiced by some, you need to be around those who will embrace you, not isolate you… I see fire in you, girl, a fierceness waiting to burst forth… just like I saw in him… he can help you… let him… GRYFFINDOR!"

Hermione hadn't realised she had closed her eyes until the hat shouted out loud. She gasped and opened them, feeling the weight of that hat being lifted from her shoulders. Hermione stood and the chair slid away once more.

"Congratulations," Harry smiled.

"Thanks," Hermione said as she made her way back to him, "I still don't really know what that means, though."

"It's alright," Harry chuckled, "I have some friends in Gryffindor, I'll introduce you to them, they'll look after you."

Hermione might have been wrong but she thought Harry sounded slightly disappointed. She didn't mention this and Dumbledore made his way back to them a moment later, smiling.

"Well, that's that dealt with," he said as he clapped his hands together, "Miss Granger, I'm sure there is still much that you don't understand but I'm sure Harry will be able to help you with any concerns you may have. In the meantime, the Minister will be here soon, Harry."

"Yes, of course," Harry replied and turned to Hermione "I have some business to attend to with Professor Dumbledore and the Minister, would you like a tour of the castle in the meantime?"

"If it's not too much trouble," Hermione said and Harry nodded, calling Dobby again and asking him to guide Hermione around the castle.

"Of course, sir! Right away sir! This way, miss Hermione, miss!" Dobby squeaked, leading Hermione out of the door of Dumbledore's office, calling a goodbye to the Headmaster as she left.

"How did you come to find her, Harry?" Dumbledore asked and Harry opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by the fireplace beside him bursting into green flames. A short man wearing a bowler hat stepped out of the hearth and brushed himself off, mumbling as he did.

"A bit of serendipity, professor," Harry smiled and turned to the man from the fireplace, "good evening Minister."

The Minister, Cornelius Fudge, jerked his head up and stood looking at Harry, as if caught off guard by his presence. "Harry, m'boy! You're already here! Good, good…"

"Good evening, Cornelius," Dumbledore greeted from his desk, "how go the preparations?"

"Ugh, good, very good, Albus…" Cornelius mumbled as if out of breath.

"Preparations for what?" Harry asked.

"We, uh…the TriWizard Tournament will be taking place again this year, as I'm sure you know… with Hogwarts chosen as the host school," Cornelius revealed.

Harry glanced at Dumbledore, who he saw shared his apprehension.

"The TriWizard Tournament…" Harry muttered, "it's an honour, to be sure, but many students have died in the past in these games; what guarantee do we have that their blood won't be spilt on Hogwarts Grounds?"

"None, of course-" Dumbledore started but was quickly interrupted by the Minister.

"But-but the Ministry will be checking in on everything that happens and we will be approving all three challenges put forth by the Heads of each school," Cornelius blurted out, almost stumbling over his own words, as if he was trying to convince Harry that all was well.

"So what does this have to do with me?" Harry asked.

"W-Well, such events can be laborious and-and-and taxing on the Ministry-" Cornelius was muttering again so Harry took the opportunity to shoot another glance at Dumbledore, who he could see was trying to hide a smirk behind his crossed hands, the joy in seeing the Minister squirm evident. Harry couldn't help but smile a little too and he made a guess that he was pretty sure was right on the money.

"You need more money?" Harry asked, raising a single eyebrow at Cornelius as he had seen Dumbledore countless time before when he could read through people.

"Well, I mean, a _few_ more galleons wouldn't go amiss…" Cornelius said, avoiding Harry's gaze.

"I'll increase my contribution by fifteen percent, that should be more than enough for the Tournament. Maybe you should try paying your politicians a little less, Minister," Harry said, eyeing Cornelius once more, who thanked him but still avoided his eyes. "So the Ministry will be ensuring that all the students are safe throughout the tournament?"

"As safe as possible," Dumbledore muttered, as if to himself.

"But should you be chosen as champion, Harry, I'm sure we won't have to worry about that anyway," Cornelius said, grinning, "you are going to put yourself forward, aren't you Harry?"

Harry hadn't considered this. The TriWizard Tournament was a noble and historic tradition, stretching back farther than Harry could even remember reading of it, but it had been barbaric in years past and the number of casualties had not been slim. Still, the prospect of having his name in the history books as the winner of the Tournament was appealing, and Harry knew Cornelius was right, in a way; if Harry was picked then it would mean that nobody else would get hurt, not from Hogwarts at least. Harry was sure that whatever the Tournament threw at him, he would be able to face it.

"I'll have to think on it, Minister," Harry smirked but Cornelius seemed to have thought he had said " _of course, Minister, sign me up straight away!"_ because he instantly grinned and clapped his hands together. Suddenly the door to the office opened and in came a man with short ginger hair, slightly greying, wearing a green wool coat and bumbling a song to himself. He turned and closed the door behind him before heading further into the room where the rest of the party stood.

"So sorry I'm late, couldn't help having a quick look round the castle again – oh! Harry! How are you?"

"I'm good, thank you Arthur," Harry smiled as he shook Arthur Weasley's hand heartily. Of the many people Harry had met through few years, Arthur was one who Harry could sit with for hours and talk with, simply enjoying his company. "And yourself? How's Molly?"

"Oh I'll do, but I can feel these shirts getting tighter every day!" Arthur said and howled with laughter. It pleased Harry immensely to see Arthur like this. He could still remember how the Weasleys had been only a few short years ago, back when Arthur was still working for the Ministry. The Weasleys had always struggled to get by but their love for each other and family kept them strong. Arthur had always had a knack for inventing, especially when it came to adapting muggle items to suit wizards, and Harry could even remember the first contraption Arthur ever showed him; a watch that yelled at you when you set an alarm and wouldn't shut up until you'd brushed your teeth and had breakfast. Harry made a mental note to never use such an alarm but he saw the potential in Arthur's inventions and decided to help him start his own enterprise. With Harry's funding and intuition for business, Arthur's inventions sold quickly and in mass proportions, such that it wasn't long before Harry no longer needed to do anything except collect his shares regularly and make sure all was running well with the business. Since then Arthur- and indeed the whole Weasley family- had been much comfier, wealthier and altogether happier than they had ever been, finally able to afford the things others took for granted like new clothes and even a couple of holidays abroad. "Molly's doing well too, still knitting ever minute she gets of course."

"I'm glad to hear it, her jumpers really are the most comfortable I've ever worn, and I've worn some expensive jumpers," Harry said and Arthur flushed a little.

"I'll be sure to let her know. I'm just glad she buys the cheap wool with the amount she goes through!"

Harry and Arthur laughed heavily together again, but the Minister seemed to be growing impatient as he cleared his throat and shuffled his feet.

"Ah! Hello Minister!" Arthur said, walking over and shaking the Minister's hand like it was his first time meeting him, "Good to see you again."

"And you, Arthur. Now, if we can-"

"Albus! Long time no see!" Arthur bellowed as he turned to Dumbledore, as if he hadn't even noticed the Headmaster was there. Harry was fairly sure that Arthur was having as much fun as Dumbledore at ignoring the Minister.

"Too long, old friend, too long," Dumbledore said with a true smile and he clasped Arthur's hand in a shake.

"Now, what's all this about then?" Arthur asked, turning back to the room. The Minister, seizing the opportunity to speak again, cleared his throat.

"As I'm sure you're aware, Arthur, the TriWizard Tournament will take place this year, and Hogwarts has been chosen as the host school this time. The problem is that the whole world keeps up with the games but we can't fit the whole world into Hogwarts, and while the radio may have been able to convey the games well enough in past years it's simply not enough anymore. If my knowledge is correct, muggles use these machines called "feletishions" to actually _watch_ events as they happen from the comfort of their own home, am I correct?"

" _Televisions,_ Minister, but yes that is essentially what they do," Arthur confirmed, "they use cameras to record events or even broadcast them live around the world." Arthur of course knew a lot about muggles and their way of life as he was fascinated by them, and Harry had always kept in touch with the muggle side of him, using much of the technology that most wizards considered improper or "too muggle" for their liking. The Minister, on the other hand, had no real idea of what the muggle world was like.

"Yes, of course," Cornelius said, acting as if he knew exactly how it all worked, "what we were wondering was if there was a way for you make it work for _us_ as well? For the Wizarding World?"

Arthur hummed and looked at the ceiling for a moment.

"I imagine there's a way to make it work… and what's more, I could probably make it more efficient too. Yes… yes I can probably do it."

"Excellent, then I'll leave it in your capable hands. In the meantime, I have other matters to attend to. Goodbye gentlemen," Cornelius bade them farewell as he stepped back into the fireplace and disappeared into green flames. Harry, Dumbledore, and even Arthur all let out a simultaneous sigh of relief once he'd disappeared.

"Thank Merlin, he's gone," Dumbledore said and Harry couldn't help but agree.

* * *

Hermione was wondering how in the world she was ever going to find her way around such a huge castle when she was alone here; she was having enough trouble remembering where she was even with Dobby guiding her. She'd already been shown around the Great Hall. The Grand Staircase (and fell into it's trip step), the kitchens, the library, a few of the main classrooms and even up to the astronomy tower where Hermione could see the vast expanse of the Hogwarts Grounds. She'd been very taken aback when the portraits in different areas of the castle began to talk and move of their own accord and began to wonder if this was what the pictures back at Harry's manor were supposed to do to. Despite its size, Hermione had a strange feeling that Hogwarts would quickly become a second home for her.

"Dobby will take you to your common room now, miss," Dobby said cheerfully, "it's not far from here, miss."

Dobby was right. Only a couple of minutes later the pair stood before a large portrait of a fat woman in a pink dress, wafting herself with a fan.

"Buttersticks," Dobby said to the portrait.

"Can I get no peace, even in the holidays?" the portrait moaned and slowly creaked open.

"How do you know the password, Dobby?" Hermione asked. The little house elf smirked mischievously.

"Dobby still has friends in the castle, miss," he said and hopped through the portrait hole, Hermione following after. The Gryffindor common room was very cosy, that much Hermione could tell as soon as she walked in. The roaring fireplace gave the tower a warm feel and the different rugs and drapes made it feel all the more homely. Hermione was so enticed by the room at first that she didn't even notice the couple sat in an armchair at the other side of the room. Well, one boy – tall and ginger with freckles – was actually sat in the chair; the girl with long, blonde hair and piercing blue eyes lay across his lap, her legs dangling over one arm of the chair and her back resting against a compartment on the other side.

"I always preferred your common room to mine, Ron – it's much cosier," the girl said as she stare at the ceiling.

"Well, you know you can come here whenever you want, Luna," the boy called Ron said as he rested his head against the cushioned armchair, his hand slowly stroking Luna's hair.

"I know, sometimes it just feels like people are staring at- oh, hello!" Luna said cheerily as she noticed Hermione in the room. Suddenly her eyes narrowed on Hermione before almost instantly returning to their previous, wide stature. "We didn't expect anyone else to be here."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'll go-" Hermione said and began to turn away but Luna called after her.

"No, no, don't. please, come sit with us," Luna patted the chair beside them, gesturing for Hermione to sit. Hermione had to admit she would have liked to sit down after walking all over the castle, so she made her way over to the chair and perched herself down. Dobby busied himself tidying the common room and talking with the paintings on the walls.

"I don't think I've seen you around here before," Ron, who had opened his eyes upon hearing there was somebody else with them, said as Hermione sat. Hermione took the opportunity to explain that she'd only just found out that she was a witch and that Hogwarts even existed. She left out the part about being a veela, heeding Harry's advice. Ron and Luna listened intently as Hermione spoke, nodding along regularly. "Well, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes, I hope you don't mind me saying" Ron said, but Luna tutted and gave him a light tap on the chest, so he added, "b-but with Harry helping you, you don't have to worry about a thing. Best student in the school, I'd say."

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle along with Luna. If she was honest, Ron had said exactly what she'd been thinking.

"Ron, what's that in the corner?" Luna asked, staring at a nook in the corner of the room. Hermione turned to look too but saw nothing of significance there.

"I'm not sure, I'll go check," Ron said as Luna swung herself off his lap and allowed him to stand up before sliding down onto the chair. Ron walked over to the corner and began staring into the corner.

"You're one of us, aren't you?" Luna asked, leaning forward to whisper with Hermione.

"What?" Hermione asked, glancing at Ron, "what did you do to him?"

"To Ron? Oh, nothing. I just confused him a little. Anyway, you're one of us, right? You're veela?"

Hermione's heart skipped a beat.

"How… how did you…?" Hermione stammered. Had she let it slip? Was she that obvious? How was she going to keep this a secret now? Hermione was even more confused when Luna smirked.

"We can't hide from each other, Hermione, I'm just good at concealing it. I can't bear the thought of being hounded after by hordes of boys, but you'll find other veela who crave the attention and wear their veela-ness on their sleeves. How do you feel about it?"

"I'm a little worried. I mean, I don't really know what to do with it," she said and Luna nodded.

"That's natural," Luna said, "most veela worry they'll have no control over their powers but with practice and training you'll get the hang of it."

"So how did you do that to Ron?"

"I just clouded his mind a bit and made him think there really was something over in the corner. I don't have control over him or anything, but it is fun to influence him from time to time. He does everything I tell him to anyway," Luna winked.

"So you two are together?" Hermione asked.

"Yup, he's my partner in crime. At least he is for now, I don't know how long for, though."

"What do you mean?"

"We veela aren't like normal humans; humans can fall in love time and time again and still have the same feelings for their partners. Veela, while we can love others, only ever truly fall in love once, and our love, much like other creatures, is much more powerful than humans. The love humans feel is just a chemical in the brain, the love between creatures – including veela – is a magical bond that ties you together and no matter how far apart you may be or how bad things may get, that bond never breaks."

"And you have that bond with Ron?"

"No, not yet. But that doesn't mean I won't one day. And besides, he's the closest thing I have to that, and I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Suddenly the door opened again and in walked Harry, his eyes scanning the room until he noticed Hermione and Luna across from him. He began to walk over to them.

"Ah, Luna, I was hoping you'd be here – hi, Ron, ("Not now, Harry, I'm looking for something,") of course you are – I assume you know, Luna?" Harry asked as he sat on a nearby footrest.

"About Hermione being a you-know-what? Yeah, I noticed when she came in," Luna answered. Harry rested his back against the wall and closed his eyes, his head cocked back.

"Ah, that's good then… Luna will help teach you all about it, Hermione, it's better coming from someone who knows first-hand what it's like," Harry said.

"Oh, will I?" Luna teased, causing Harry to slowly turn his head in her direction and peer at her through lazily-opened eyes. Luna's facade broke and she smiled coyly. "As if I would let her go through this on her own. I remember when I first realised I was one, I thought I was going to accidentally throw fire at people ever time I moved my hand-"

"I can throw _fire?!"_ Hermione gasped, her eyes darting from Luna to Harry and back again. Her eyes wide. Luna sighed and looked at Harry, one eyebrow raised.

"You forgot to mention that part, then?" she asked.

"It may have slipped my mind," Harry replied, his eyes closed once more. Luna turned back to Hermione.

"You can do that in your veela form, as well as a lot of other things. You can also do more things than the typical witch in every day life, but I'll have to talk with you about it later – Ron?" Luna called out to Ron, who was still stood inspecting the corner of the room. He turned at Luna's words. "We'd best find your dad; if Harry's back then he must be done with the Minister too."

"He said something about going down to visit Hagrid," Harry said and Ron, who had come back over and was now leaning against the chair Luna was sat on. Sighed heavily.

"We'd best go find him, Lune – if we let them get talking then we won't have chance to head home before school starts again," Ron said.

"Good point," Luna agreed, standing from her seat and taking Ron's hand. "See you later Harry, Hermione," she smiled as she and Ron left the common room, leaving Hermione and Harry alone there. Harry was breathing steadily, his eyes closed and his head directed at the ceiling.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Hermione couldn't help but ask.

"Hmm?" Harry hummed as he looked over at Hermione before returning to his resting position, eyes closed again, "yeah, yeah I'm fine… the Minister can just be such a drag sometimes." Harry chuckled a little but Hermione had a sneaking position that something else was tiring him out. She decided not to push the matter though and instead brought something up that she had been worrying about for a little while.

"You've helped me a lot today, Harry… but I need to ask one favour of you."

"And what would that be?"

"I need you to come and help explain all this to my mum."

Harry paused for a moment, his expression not changing.

"How could I forget about that? Of course I'll come and help explain, there's no telling how she'll react."

Hermione sighed a little in relief, thankful that Harry was willing to come and talk with her mother about this. She was certain that if she tried to explain by herself that her mother wouldn't believe her.

Just _how_ Harry was going to convince her was another problem.

Minerva McGonagall was sat at her desk, bewildered. A knock came from her door and she called for the visitor to enter, who turned out to be Professor Dumbledore.

"Good evening, Minerva," he greeted cheerily upon entering, "how are you?"

"Confused, Albus, very confused," McGonagall admitted, her hand rested on her forehead as she read a parchment for the tenth time. "This girl, Hermione Granger, that you told me about…"

"Yes?" Dumbledore asked, "What about her?"

"She's… nowhere," McGonagall sighed, "not in our records, not in the Ministry's - nowhere!"

"Minerva…" Dumbledore started, his eyes closed behind his half-moon spectacles, "do you mean to tell me that – for the first time in the history of Hogwarts – a fully capable witch has managed to hide beneath the radar of the Wizarding World and remain almost completely unaware of her powers until now?"

"I… I'm afraid so, Albus. But…" McGonagall lowered her parchment and looked at Dumbledore, his eyes meeting hers, "… is that possible?"

"No… no, it's not."

 **Thanks to everyone who left a review on the first chapter, I was completely blown away by the support this story got and I'm really glad I pushed forward and posted it. In regard to the next chapter I know where I want it to go but I'm still trying to find the right way to write it so the next chapter will probably take longer to publish, hope y'all are okay with that.**

 **Also before anyone starts to think I'm just making** _ **everyone**_ **into veela, that isn't the case. Luna/Ron (or whatever the ship name is) is a ship I've had for a while – among others – and I've always had the thought that Luna was secretly a veela but just had super good control over her powers and knew how to harness them properly. Then one day I just got the image of Luna playfully abusing her powers to get Ron to do what she wants and I thought it would fit really well with this fic. And Ron calling Luna "Lune" isn't a typo by the way, just thought I'd clarify that because Ron's probably gonna call her that more in the future.**

 **Hope you enjoyed reading and feel free to leave a review and let me know what you thought of the chapter, they're all appreciated.**


	3. Chapter 3: Wars, Wands and Worms

**This chapter took way longer than I anticipated it too and I'm sorry it's taken me this long. I love writing in general but sometimes the motivation isn't there or you just can't figure out a narrative that you're happy with and it just gets stuck in a rut, and for that I apologise.**

 **I would like to address the main problem that seemed to be in the last chapter and that is regarding Harry telling Hermione about the horcruxes. The way I see Harry in this is that he wouldn't lie about being a horcrux as there are plenty of people who don't like him for other reasons and being a horcrux would have only added to that pile so it wouldn't have mattered, beside the fact that most people don't know what horcruxes are so it's not something that's likely to come up in conversation. All those closest to Harry already know he is one and the reason I had him open up to Hermione about it was because it was an attempt to connect with her; she's having all this information thrown upon her by a guy she barely knows but seems to know a lot about her, so Harry tells her some "secrets" about himself to help her feel more comfortable. I know some won't agree with that reasoning and for that I'm sorry, but I hope it gives a bit of insight to my reasoning.**

 **While I'm clarifying things here's a few that I didn't point out before:  
There is no specific year for this fic, as there will be things from both present and past in here so I'm not saying it's set in Rowling's OC timeline nor am I saying it's meant to be happening today. Maybe that's lazy storytelling on my part but oh well.  
Secondly, this isn't a lemon fic; I do not plan on writing in detail into the *cough* *cough* more intimate actions of characters, so sorry if that's what you're here for. Maybe in a later fic though…  
Finally, at parts this is going to be a dark fic, specifically on Harry as you'll see later in this chapter. This isn't going to be a running thing in every chapter but there will be times when Harry (and potentially some other characters) get dark with their actions, but that's not the main basis of this fic. **

**If I remember anything else I need to clarify then I'll put it at the start of the appropriate chapter as this is all I can think of right now. Enjoy…**

Hermione stood at the bottom of the path to her house, Harry by her side. She had called ahead to make sure her mother was home before heading back and, now that she was here, she felt more nervous than ever. What if she didn't believe Harry? What if she refused to let her return to Hogwarts? Even worse, what if she did believe him but was ashamed of Hermione and cast her out? Would she have to live on the streets? She had no money to get by… no, of course not; surely Hogwarts had some kind of back-up plan for cases like that. Hermione did her best to clear her head and suddenly noticed that Harry also seemed fairly distracted.

"You okay, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Harry sighed, not sounding entirely convincing, "I've told a lot of families they have a magical child… I've just never had to tell one that, first of all, they were found a few years too late and, secondly, that said child is also a veela. This is a first for me…"

Hermione's gut sank a little; she had been hoping that Harry would make up for her lack of confidence but it seemed that he shared her worry.

"Let's get this over with," Hermione said after a big sigh and pushed the gate before her open. She walked straight up to the door and pushed it open, beckoning Harry inside too. "Mum?" she called through the house.

"I'm in the kitchen, sweetheart!" her mother's voice called back and Hermione lead Harry through into the sitting room. She could hear her mother's voice getting louder as she left the kitchen and headed for the same room. "You're just in time, I was just about to make-" Marie Granger walked around the corner and froze as she saw Harry stood by Hermione. "-Tea…" she finished, staring at Harry. Hermione's smile slowly faded as she noticed her mother's odd reaction. She followed her gaze to Harry, who Hermione was astounded to see was smirking.

"Umm… Harry, this is my mother, Marie. Mum, this is Harry Potter," Hermione introduced the two who were still eyeing each other.

"A pleasure, Miss Granger," Harry said through his grin.

"And you, Mister Potter," Marie replied, her lips pursed.

The silence between the trio was deafening. Finally Hermione clapped her hands together and invited Harry to sit by the table while she went to finish the tea. Marie, not taking her eyes off Harry, sat very stiffly opposite him.

"You hid yourself well," Harry said.

"Clearly not well enough," Marie sighed, frustration very present in her voice, "how did you find me?"

"I didn't; I found _her_ ," Harry revealed, jerking his head in the direction of the kitchen.

"So the Ministry finally wants to take responsibility of all the magical children in England, huh? Care to tell me why she never got her Hogwarts letter – seeing as you're so deep in with Hogwarts?"

Harry's smirk dropped.

"You already knew? We were hoping you could tell us how you'd managed to hide her."

"I _never_ hid her," Marie growled, "she was showing all the signs of being a budding witch, and a veela to boot – which I must admit came as a surprise – but then her eleventh birthday came and there was no letter at the door. I only planned to keep it from her until then so she could have a relatively normal childhood, but _the letter never came_. I thought… I thought the Ministry had blacklisted me… for what I did…"

"You didn't do anything illegal. Highly immoral, maybe, but not illegal."

"So, what now? You're going to out me to the Wizarding World? Reveal me for what I am?"

"What do you take me for?" Harry asked, his face not hiding the offence he had taken. Marie sunk a little, ashamed.

"I'm sorry… I just want her to be safe. Regardless of what happens now, we're going to have to relocate, I'm going to have to teach her magic myself wherever we go-"

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, slightly dumbfounded. "Let her go to Hogwarts, let her be around people like her-"

"There are no others like her!"

"She deserves to know everything!"

"You don't get to decide that!"

All of a sudden, without even realising it, the both of them had jumped to their feet and, with a flick of their wrists, were both aiming their wands at each other.

"Harry! Mum?!" Hermione screamed as she re-entered the room, carrying a tray with tea and biscuits.

"Hermione," Harry said, caught off guard, lowering his wand, "I-" he began but was cut off by a burst of blue light that erupted from Marie's wand and sent him flying across the room, tumbling over a sofa. Hermione screamed a little and dropped the tray.

"Come with me," Marie commanded as she grabbed Hermione's wrist and began striding towards the door. Harry, groaning from his fall, pulled himself up a little and snapped his fingers. There was a collection of simultaneous clicks and thuds as all the windows and doors in the house locked.

"She deserves… to know the truth… Turner!" Harry said as he regained his breath and balance. Hermione's eyes shot from Harry to Marie, waiting for one of them to continue.

"Turner? Mum, what's he talking about?" Hermione tried to ask her mother but Marie refused to look at her; she was instead staring at the floor.

"Marionette Turner, Marie to her friends, Ravenclaw House, Head Girl, top of her year in pretty much all her classes, personally selected by Alastair Moody for the Auror Training Program… and then, when Voldemort was rising to power, disappeared from the Wizarding World without a trace," Harry said.

Hermione slowly turned her head from Harry, her mouth open slightly, to her mother.

"You ran?" she whispered, "You ran from the war?"

"I…" Marie began, her eyes closed, "I'm not proud of what I did… but I had to look out for myself…"

Hermione took a step back from her mother, disgust on her face. "You ran…" she whispered again.

"Hermione, please…" Marie sighed, finally looking at her daughter again.

"People died in that war-"

"I know they did-"

"So many people-"

"I didn't want to be one of them-"

" _Harry's parents died-"_

"Hermione-" Harry began but was cut off by Marie.

"I know they did, and I'm sorry! Harry, I knew your parents, they were only a couple of years younger than me, you couldn't meet two better people and I'm sorry they're dead, but they were fighting a losing war Hermione and I couldn't be certain we'd come out the other end alive… so I hid. I changed my last name, met your father, settled down and had you…"

"But the war ended years ago, why didn't you go back? Or at least tell me?" Hermione asked.

"Because I was scared, Hermione. I was ashamed, terrified of what people would think of me, what they would say. I decided to stay in hiding and give you a normal childhood, then see how I felt about it when your Hogwarts letter came. But that never happened. I couldn't bring myself to come back and find out what had happened, so I hoped that your… abilities, would never fully mature. I didn't know what to do…"

"You were scared…" Hermione muttered, "I spent years of my life alone, isolated, alienated… because you were scared." Hermione turned on her heel and strode upstairs, Marie calling after her. Harry heard Hermione's footsteps slowly fade away and Marie sighed heavily. She turned and walked past Harry, without caring to look at him, back into the kitchen.

Hermione lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, contemplating everything she had just learned. How could her life change so much in one day?

"So this is what a muggle bedroom looks like," came Harry's voice from the doorway. He was leant casually against the frame, glancing around the room, "much cleaner than I expected."

"How are you okay with this?" Hermione asked, sitting up cross-legged on her bed, "she ran from a war, hid all of this from me, and she _knew-_ "

"She wasn't the only one to run, Hermione."

"And that's supposed to make it better?!"

"It doesn't make it any worse or any better. What it means is that there were other, much more dangerous things she could have done out of fear."

"Such as?"

"Such as turning to Voldemort's side. Fear drives people to do terrible things, Hermione, things you would have never expected them to do; kill, torture… even betray their friends. We're fortunate enough that we don't remember what those times were like and, hopefully, we won't ever find out. I'm not saying your mother was right to do what she did, I'm not defending her in the slightest, but I understand _why_ she did it. In regards to not telling you any of this there is no excuse for that, you deserved to know all of this and more long ago… but that can't be changed now. All we can do now is take a step forward and move on."

Hermione sighed and buried her head in her hands.

"This is all so fucked," she muttered.

"I know," Harry replied. After a moment he took out a piece of paper and a pen from his coat pocket and scribbled something down. "I have some things to attend to but if you need me for anything, even if it's just to talk, here's my mobile number." Hermione lifted her head and took the slip of paper.

"Thank you, Harry… for everything," Hermione said, finally letting a smile slip from her lips. Harry gave her a quick wink and disappeared around the corner of the doorframe.

Before leaving, Harry had one more thing left to do. He reached the bottom of the stairs and slowly walked toward the kitchen. There he saw Marie at the sink, washing the dishes, trying to hide that she had been crying.

"I thought you'd like to know," Harry said, "Remus is up at the manor."

Harry saw Marie's head lift a little at his words and, with his job done, turned and left the Granger house.

Harry arrived back at the manor sooner than he expected and soon found himself in his office. He draped his coat over a nearby sofa and realised that he wasn't alone.

"Evening Remus," he called out as he made his way over to his desk, where Lupin stood.

"Hello Harry," he replied, setting down a letter on Harry's desk, "I was just going to follow up on Diggle's report of Tanner Cottage."

"Oh, what's old Dedalus saying now?" Harry asked as he checked the letter.

"That there's been "excessive movement" and "unidentified people" there. He's probably just seeing things after a pint too many at the Leaky Cauldron but it's best to check anyway."

"Well I think I'll leave this one to you, Remus; I've had a rather tiresome day."

Remus chuckled and flung on his coat. He made his way over to the fireplace, cast in some Floo powder and disappeared into the green flames. Harry undid the top button of his shirt and grabbed the Firewhisky from his cabinet, pouring himself a glass before leaning back against his desk, mindlessly looking out the window. As he lifted the glass to his lips he stopped and eyed it, considering for a moment if maybe Hermione was right; maybe he was drinking too much? Casting the thought from his mind, Harry lifted the glass and drank. He had just lowered the glass and was allowing himself a comforted sigh when the fire roared green behind him and out came Remus, sounding flustered.

"Harry – you better come see this," Remus said and as Harry turned he saw his face was troubled. Placing his glass on the desk, Harry followed Remus back through the fireplace and stepped out into what he knew was Tanner Cottage, though it looked rather different. Remus had already cast an illumination charm that lit the room well, showing the overturned tables and ransacked furniture. The sun had already set outside and the room was still left with a dark blue hue. The entire house seemed colder and Harry wished he hadn't left his jacket on the sofa, nor that he had undone the top of his shirt.

"What happened here?" Harry whispered, not realising how low his voice was.

"I don't know," Remus replied simply. "I'll check the rest of the cottage, see how bad the damage is."

Remus sped off, patrolling the house. Harry walked slowly, barely making a noise. He couldn't remember ever living here, or even coming here as a child, but he knew his parents had liked it here. They had even considered moving to the cottage when they went into hiding. It hurt Harry to see it destroyed, and the shock that this had been allowed to happen was still on him. Dedalus had been right. Something was going on here and they were too late to stop it.

There was a cracking noise and Harry looked beneath his foot. There on the floor was the back of a picture frame. He bent down and gently picked it up, turning it over in his hand. His mother's face smiled back at him as did his father's, their arms around each other in a happier time. Harry couldn't help the small smile that escaped his lips. How he wished to see them again… to feel the love they did with each other with someone else. But that wasn't going to happen. He knew that.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. As he was about to place the photo on a sideboard he noticed something in it that he had forgotten until that moment; around his mother's neck lay a golden chain with a locked attached. On this locket was engraved a stag with lilies woven intricately into the prongs of the stag's antlers. Harry's eyes widened as he realised that that necklace had been stored in the cottage prior to whatever events had left it in this state. He did not usually hold sentimental value with items as most could be replaced easily but this was one of the few that made an exception; it was a direct link to his parents that he knew once belonged to them. If it was here when the place was burgled, then…

Harry sprinted up the stairs and into the master bedroom where Remus was already emptying drawers and checking cabinets.

"Harry, what is it?" Remus asked, slightly alarmed by Harry's energy. Harry marched straight to the wardrobe and threw the doors open. Leaning to the back, he slid open a compartment that was set into the bottom of the compartment and found what he was looking for; a small, black, felt box. Harry's heart relaxed a little until he opened the box. It was empty.

Harry roared in anger and threw the box across the room. He plunged his hand into his pocket and drew out his phone.

"Harry?! What is it? You know who did this?" Remus reeled, an anxious look on his face. Harry's didn't look up from his phone.

"The only man who knew where I kept that necklace, _and_ the only man stupid enough to rob from me," Harry hissed and raised the phone to his ear, the tone ringing for only a beat before a kind voice answered on the other end.

"N. Tonks' Private Eye, how can I-"

"Potter – Tonks – now!" Harry ordered.

"Right away, Mr Potter," the voice on the other end said, a hint of alarm in her voice. A second later the familiar voice of Nymphadora Tonks answered.

"Harry, what is-"

"Find me Mundungus Fletcher!"

It had been two days since Hermione had spoken to her mother, or even seen her. She had stayed in her room, surviving off the small supply of snacks she kept there for intense reading and revising sessions, but now her stash was running low and her body craved real food, so she accepted that she would have to go downstairs.

Not bothering to try and be quiet, Hermione walked out of her room and down the staircase, around the corner and through the sitting room. She continued her way to the kitchen despite her mother calling after her, as she had been reading a magazine in the sitting room at that moment.

"Hey, hey sweetie," she said with a slightly airy voice, as if she was talking to an injured pet. Hermione didn't speak but fixed her mother with a brief stare as she poured some cereal into a bowl. She could have sworn her mother gulped. "How – how are you?"

Hermione didn't answer at first.

"I'm fine," she said eventually, opening a draw to grab a spoon.

"Good, good… listen, honey… I can't stay," Marie said with a grimace.

"Okay, if you need to head into town for a bit I should still be here-" Hermione began in a monotone voice but was cut off.

"No, sweetie… I can't _stay…_ "

Another silence fell between Hermione and her mother as she contemplated what she was saying.

"You're leaving?" Hermione clarified.

"I can't risk more wizards finding me yet. I'm not ready. I can stay until you go to Hogwarts but then-"

"You're running away again?"

Marie sighed.

"Hermione, I-"

"It's fine, go if you need to, I'll stay at Hogwarts," Hermione said blankly and strode past her mother, cereal in hand. She was already up the stairs when she heard her mother calling her name and she didn't bother to reply.

Closing the door behind her a little too strongly, Hermione slumped on her bed and sighed, staring at the ceiling. Bored senseless, Hermione picked up her phone from the bedside table and checked her messages. It hadn't taken long for Hermione to take Harry up on his offer of talking via the phone and she had found him to be quite relaxing to talk to. In fact, he had been her sole source of companionship over the last couple of days what with her defiantly staying in her room. She was disappointed, however, to see that Harry hadn't read his last. What was he doing? She supposed he could be in a business meeting again, meeting one of his many clients. Then again, she didn't know much about his life aside from that; for all she knew he could have hopped in that Floo nonsense and be skiing down the Alps right now. Deciding that she needed some air anyway and an escape from her home, she thought she'd pay a visit to the manor. Not wanting to run into her mother again, Hermione opened her bedroom window and climbed down the outside of the house using missing brick spaces and loose fittings to work her way down.

It wasn't long before Hermione found herself walking through the familiar, low-hanging trees and up through the gardens towards the manor. She spotted Remus far away in another part of the garden and decided not to bother him – he seemed to be enjoying himself. Instead she made her way up towards the large doors and knocked. There was no answer. She knocked again. Still no answer. Deciding that there was no other choice, Hermione pushed open the door and made her own way inside.

She was relieved to see that Sirius wasn't hanging from the chandelier this time, though she found it odd that the portraits lining the walls were still asleep. She was sure, however, that if she looked closely enough, she could see them shifting slightly, their chests rising and falling a little.

Hermione followed the path that Sirius had lead her along to reach Harry's office and was sure she was on the same corridor when she heard something that worried her. A grunting, one that a person might make if they were in pain or distress. Whipping around, Hermione listened closely to try and hear it again. It was close, she knew that much. She followed it as quickly and quietly as she could, hoping she wouldn't draw attention to herself. After making her way through two more short corridors, Hermione found herself outside the door of the room she was certain the noise was coming from. She opened the door ever so slightly and peered inside.

Stood in the middle of the room was Harry, stiff as a board, his eyes shut tight and his breathing heavy. It was he who was making the noises and it was evident he was in pain.

"Harry!" Hermione gasped as she pushed the door open and walked inside. Hermione was even more shocked to see a man stood about five yards away from Harry with his wand pointed directly at Harry's head. He wasn't the tallest man but he was hardly short, wearing a light brown trench coat and brown boots. He was heavyset and looked old, not to mention he was sporting both a metal leg and a mechanical eye that had whirred to rest on Hermione as soon as she entered the room, the man's head not moving an inch. Hermione went to move but Harry shot his hand up to stop her. Hermione felt conflicted – it was clear that Harry was in pain but then he was telling her not to interfere. What was she to do? She didn't have to wonder this for long however as seconds later Harry seemed to break free of whatever was holding him and breathe heavily, bending a little and resting his hands on his knees, his forehead sweaty.

"You're improving, Potter," the man said in a gruff voice, his mechanical eye still on Hermione, "there's still some memories in there that I can access a little too easily, though."

"I'll work on them," Harry said through his breathes, "thanks again for filling in for Sev, Alastair."

"No bother, Potter. Right, I'll be off," the man called Alastair said and he made to leave the room. He grunted as he passed Hermione and she wasn't sure whether it was voluntary of him or not. Harry called a goodbye after him and walked over to Hermione, who still looked confused.

"Don't mind Mad-Eye, he has that nickname for a reason," Harry said as he aligned his glasses properly, "then again you'll figure that out for yourself soon enough, seeing as he'll be teaching at Hogwarts this year."

"What _was_ that?" Hermione asked, staring at Harry.

"Hm? Oh, the training thing… that was occlumency. There's a special kind of magic that allows you to tap into people's minds and see their memories which can be both very useful and very dangerous if used by the wrong people. Myself, I have a lot of things in this head of mine that I would like to keep private so practicing to stop people from entering my head is vital. That's what Mad-Eye was trying to do just then, and it was my job to stop him. Speaking of training," Harry turned and gestured towards the large room they were in, its large windows blocked out with long curtains, "this is where I will be tutoring you, when we start your lessons. Gives us plenty of space with little distractions. Not to be rude but what are you doing here, Hermione?"

"I was bored, you weren't answering your messages and my mother is now even further in my bad books," Hermione answered grumpily.

"Why's that?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"She's saying she has to leave, that she can stay until I go to Hogwarts but after that she has to run away again."

"I see," Harry said almost to himself before coming back to the present, "well Hogwarts is happy to accommodate its students throughout the year, should it be necessary for you. Ugh, look at me; I'm hardly presentable," Harry scolded himself and Hermione had to admit Harry did look rather sweaty and dishevelled.

"You look like you've been working out for the past few hours," Hermione said, a mischievous smirk on her face.

"Well if you'd have seen me early this morning you would have been right," Harry laughed as they made to leave the room.

"You work out?" Hermione asked, her eyebrow raised slightly in surprise.

"I have to, got to stay in shape… for Quidditch that is," he added quickly, as if as an excuse. Hermione didn't realise she was eyeing Harry as they walked until he looked back at her and smiled. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," Hermione said a little too quickly and instantly looked anywhere else. She dared not say anything else in case she let slip that she had just been imagining him working out, training somewhere in the house, building up a sweat-

"I need a shower," Harry said, disgruntled.

"Hm?" Hermione asked, being pulled away from her imagination only to have this other delightful image thrown into her mind. _Stop!_ She scolded herself, _What are you doing? Stop thinking like that!_ But that was proving harder than she expected.

"I need to clean myself up, I won't be long. Feel free to hang out around the house, Dobby was in the library last I heard so just call for him if you need anything."

 _Books! Yes, distract yourself with books!_ Hermione thought to herself and sped off towards the room she knew was Harry's office.

Some time later, Hermione sat herself down on the sofa with a selection of books and picked one up. She found that she was paying no attention to anything on the pages, however, as she was too busy telling herself off for her inappropriate thoughts before. This had to be something to do with the veela in her finally waking up, that was the only logical explanation. She reminded herself to ask Luna about it when she next saw her; after all she had said she would help her out. Just as Hermione was rereading the same sentence for the tenth time, Harry walked into the office with his phone pressed to his ear.

"He's local? Good… he hasn't got a hope of hiding from us for long… keep me posted," Harry said and he ended the call. He sighed and moved straight to his drinking cabinet. "Drink?" He called out to Hermione, who took a moment to reply.

"I thought you only drank after meetings," she said and she saw Harry's check twitch into a smirk.

"Technically that was a meeting," he replied, "about a rather important issue. Drink?" He asked again and Hermione accepted. He poured out another glass and flicked his wrist. As he did, the second glass hovered in the air and swiftly made its way to the table in front of Hermione. She sipped it, assuming it was Firewhisky and felt the burn in her throat as she drank. Harry took a gulp, still stood at the cabinet and let out a sigh. He turned and made his way to the desk. Rifling through some letters, opening them, reading most and burning some others.

"Do you mind if I ask what the issue was?" Hermione broke the silence.

"Just some pest control," Harry replied, his eyes not leaving the letters. Hermione decided not to push the issue and took another sip of her drink. It wasn't long before Harry had finished checking the letters that had arrived and finished his drink.

"Well, I think it's about time we got your Hogwarts supplies," he said, placing his glass back on the cabinet.

"So soon?" Hermione asked.

"No time like the present. Besides, if we leave it till too late then Diagon Alley will be swarmed with students trying to get all their things. At least by going early we can get it all out of the way, and we still have to set up an account for you at Gringotts." Hermione assumed that Diagon Alley and Gringotts were the equivalent of the markets she had grown up visiting but for wizards. "Sirius should already be there in the Leaky Cauldron if his usually leisurely activities are to be expected so we may run into him."

Harry made his way over to the fireplace and threw some Floo powder into it. Hermione stood and made her way over as Harry stepped into the flames and automatically held out his hand for her. She took it gladly and stepped into the bright green flames with him. She was very pleased to be holding his hand until she snapped herself out of herself, scolding herself once more.

"Diagon Alley," Harry called and the pair sunk into the flames.

It barely seemed like five minutes since the two of them had stepped out of the fireplace and into Diagon Alley, yet both the morning and afternoon were quickly leaving them behind, evening approaching swiftly. Harry had kindly given Hermione his coat to keep her warm as the evening chill settled in, leaving him in his usual black jeans and black buttoned shirt. They had arranged an allowance for Hermione's account at Gringotts and purchased most of what Harry had said Hermione would need for Hogwarts including her robes, cauldron and her dragon-hide gloves, all of which would be delivered to the manor for safe-keeping. Finally, they came to an old looking shop with the name "Ollivander's" painted above the doorway.

"Garrick Ollivander, master wand maker," Harry said as they approached, "time to see how you fair."

How she faired? Was this a test? Would she get a wand based on how good she was at magic? If that was so, then she'd be lucky to leave with an ordinary twig from the ground.

They walked into the shop and found it to be empty.

"Is he closed?" Hermione asked Harry, who shook his head.

"No, he's usually hiding away in the back somewhere… Garrick?!" He called and a few moments later the old man that Hermione had seen Harry talking to when she first went to the manor coming trundling out of one of the aisles of shelves.

"Ah Harry!" he said gladly and the two shared a quick hug.

"Garrick, this is Hermione Granger. She's come for her wand," Harry introduced her and she instantly felt a little on show.

"Hello, Mister Ollivander," she said timidly.

"Oh please, call me Garrick, Miss Granger," Ollivander said with a kind smile and moved away behind his counter. He seemed to look at Harry for a moment a little to keenly and Hermione swore she saw Harry nod a little beside her. Ollivander bent a little below the counter and withdrew a long, white, rectangular box from beneath it. "Let's give this one a try, shall we?" Ollivander said as he opened the lid of the box and took out a long, slender, white wand. He extended it out to Hermione who gave Harry a quick concerned look before taking it.

Instantly Hermione's hand felt like warm, like she was fusing to the wand. She gasped suddenly as she felt it and closed her eyes, as if afraid to look. But she didn't feel scared. On the contrary, she felt content, comfortable with the wand in her hand.

"Oh my…" she heard Ollivander whisper as well as Harry beside her let out a small, "Extraordinary," and this finally convinced her to open her eyes. The room was filled with a deep blue colour, ribbons of light cascading around the room all stemming from the tip of Hermione's wand. The trails danced across the room, in-between the countless shelves behind Ollivander, along the glass in the windows behind Hermione and Harry, even up the nearby stairs and presumably all through the building. They began to spin to create a stunning whirlpool of blue light before they all shot back into the wand in Hermione's hand, over in an instant.

"Amazing… unbelievable…" Ollivander was muttering, still looking around the room.

"And you doubted me, Garrick," Harry said with a cheek smirk, he's arms crossed.

"I did, I did… that was…" Ollivander was still lost in thought.

"What just happened?" Hermione asked, looking to Harry as Ollivander seemed in no state to answer her questions.

"All wands have a core, Hermione, and Ollivander works primarily with those like dragon heart-strings, unicorn tails and the like. Veela, however, tend to have the hair of another veela in their family as the core of their wand should they be fortunate enough to obtain one. However, this is because when veela first get their wands they are usually only ten or eleven years old and the veela in them has barely even surfaced, let alone matured so they have a relative's instead. You, on the other hand, had fully matured veela capabilities in you before receiving your wand even if they were hiding. So, when one of your hairs happened to find its way into my apartment in Baxton I took the liberty of asking Garrick what would happen if a veela received her first wand with one of her own, matured hairs in it. Wands choose their wizards you see, and you'll never have a stronger connection with any other wand than your first, which is why veela don't just switch their wands later. That wand that you're holding right now is not only your first wand but has one of your own veela hairs as its core. That wand isn't just an ordinary wand; it's quite literally a part of you."

There was silence for a few moments between the three of them before Hermione spoke.

"You _stole_ one of my hairs?" she said.

"Of course _that_ would be the part you focus on," Harry replied exasperatedly, "but no, like I said, it must have fallen away naturally in my apartment. Trust me, you do not want to forcibly take a veela hair, it'll only end badly."

Hermione looked down at her wand, still not quite believing that this was all real. Hermione paid for the wand, thanked Ollivander and followed Harry back out into Diagon Alley.

Evening had truly fallen in the Alley, the sky a mixture of pink, purple and dark blue as the night approached. Harry and Hermione were walking back towards the Leaky Cauldron when Harry suddenly got a phone call.

"Potter," he said, rather formally but that act broke almost instantly, "really? Where? Send me his address, I'll deal with him," he ended the call and pocketed his phone once more. They had arrived at the door to the Leaky Cauldron but Harry had not approached it. "I have something to… take care of. Sirius is inside, he'll take you back to the manor, you're welcome to stay as long as you like, I don't plan on being too long myself."

And before Hermione could say anything, Harry had given her a charming smile that disarmed her, bowed a little, turned and walked away. She watched him walk and was halfway inside the door when she saw him turn sharply and walk down an alley that he had mentioned before as they had been shopping. Yes, she was sure he had said "whatever you do, don't head into _that_ part of the Alley, it's not a good place." So why was he going there alone? Surely, he was in danger? Panic suddenly struck Hermione. She glanced inside the Cauldron and saw that Sirius was far too drunk to sensibly see her back to the manor anyway so, bracing herself, she closed the door behind her as she left the Leaky Cauldron and followed where Harry had gone.

It felt much colder in this part of the Alley and Hermione was glad that Harry had lent her his coat. She wondered if he was feeling the chill without it. She had lost where Harry had gone pretty quickly and was now worried that she wouldn't be able to find her way out. She was walking down a particularly dark and dirty alley when she heard voices, and not ones that she was familiar with. They were close and getting closer, talking in a tongue that Hermione didn't recognise. There was nowhere for her to go, she was trapped, soon to be caught by a pair of who-knows-what's who could do anything to her. She didn't even know any spells to defend herself yet, and she doubted what little fighting practice she had would do anything to hinder a full-grown wizard's advances. Closer and closer the voices came, and Hermione was about to turn and run when an arm grabbed her and pulled her into a side alley that she hadn't noticed. She let out a small scream before a soft hand covered her mouth and shushed her. Had she not seen the glint of what little light there was in his round glasses, Hermione wouldn't have realised it was Harry who had pulled her away. A few seconds later, two men with bald heads and long trench coats walked past them, not even realising they were there in the side alley. Hermione was suddenly aware that the side alley was not very wide and she was pressed up against Harry's chest. She suddenly felt very anxious. Harry removed his hand from her mouth but did not yet step out of the alley.

"Funny," he said with a hint of a smile, "I could have sworn I left you at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Funny," Hermione repeated, "I could have sworn you told me this alley was not a good place."

"I did, which is exactly why I told you not to come here. Speaking of which, why did you?"

"Sirius is in no state to go anywhere yet, I was intrigued, plus I thought you might need your coat," Hermione said with a cheeky smile that Harry returned. She shrugged off the coat but he stopped her.

"Keep it, you'll need it more than me."

"Speaking of which, why did _you_ decide to come down here?"

"I told you, I have business to attend to."

"Dangerous business?"

"Potentially."

"Good, I want to come."

"I don't have a choice in this do I?"

"Nope."

"Fine," Harry grimaced, "but when we get there, you can't come inside."

"Why not?" Hermione asked.

"Because I don't want you to see what I'm going to do."

"What _are_ you going to do?"

"Teach him not to fuck with me."

And with that Harry out of the side alley and lead Hermione away.

They walked for a good while, Harry following pathways and directions that Hermione assumed only he knew to look out for. Before long he stopped outside a dingy building with broken windows and boarded up doors.

"This is the place," Harry said. "Now that I think about it, it's kind of a good thing that you came."

"Why's that, then?" Hermione asked.

"Because you can let me know when he's coming. He should be the only person coming to this building but just in case: he's a short, fat man with a bald head and a face that looks like it should be in prison."

"Got it, I'll message you when I see him."

Harry thanked Hermione and disappeared inside the building.

It had been half an hour before Harry received the text from Hermione that a man matching his description had entered the building. Harry knew it would be him. Tonks hadn't failed him yet and she wasn't about to start now. Harry stood in the gap between the doorframe and the wall of Mundungus' front door, inside his room. The room was poorly furnished, with a battered sofa, a small table with one chair, a fridge, an oven and a toilet that was directly next to the stained double bed. Harry knew his hiding spot was dramatic but he needed to make sure that Mundungus didn't escape. He needed to learn his lesson.

Plodding footsteps sounded outside and Harry held his breath slightly to avoid making any noise. Keys jangled and the door swung open, followed by the unmistakable shape of Mundungus Fletcher, muttering to himself about a deal gone wrong and a bad day at the market. He took a few steps into the room and set a can of beer down on the table.

"Evening, Mundungus," Harry said as he closed the door and locked it with a flick of his wrist. Mundungus spun and panic struck his face, instantly replaced with a worried smile.

"Mista Potta… so wonderful to see ya… I- I- I was just about have a drink if- if you wanted one," Mundungus stammered.

"No thank you, Mundungus, I don't need a drink. What I do need is to know how you thought you would get away with robbing me."

"R-robbing you? I- I don't know what you're talkin' abou' Mista Potta-" Mundungus tried to lie but Harry was on him in a flash.

"DON'T BULLSHIT ME, DUNG!" He yelled, less than an inch from Mundungus' face, his hand clenched around the hem of his shirt, "I know it was you, you're the only one who knew where that necklace was, now _tell me where it is!"_

"I swear I don't know, sir!" Mundungus whimpered, his hands held up. "I swear!"

Harry cursed and pushed Mundungus into the chair at the table.

"Hands on the table, now!" Harry commanded and Mundungus did as he was told, placing both of his hands palm down on the table. Harry withdrew his wand and pointed it at Mundungus' hands, fixing them in place. Mundungus now couldn't move away from the table without ripping his hands off first.

"Now tell me, Dung: where is that necklace? I don't give a shit about the rest of the stuff but where is that necklace?" Harry was leaning close to Mundungus' whimpering face who had his eyes clenched shut.

"I don't know," Mundungus said, his voice barely a whisper, "I don't know… please…"

Harry stood from the table and slowly walked to the kitchen.

"Okay, Dung… I know how it is," Harry said as he opened a few drawers. Mundungus couldn't see what he was searching for but he was sure it wasn't good. "I never trusted you, Dung. You're a conman at heart and a conman should never be trusted. But, what I did expect form you were the brains to know who you can steal from and who you really, _really,_ shouldn't steal from. I see now I was mistaken." Harry finally found what he was looking for and took out the carving knife from the drawer. It was long with a smooth edge and a fine handle. He was surprised to find it in a place like this. He slowly made his way back to the table where he could see the fear in Mundungus' eyes.  
"But, if we're honest with each other, Dung, it's _you_ who made the mistake really. But I'm in a good mood tonight, Dung, so before this goes any further I'll ask you this: which hand would you prefer to lose?"

Mundungus stared, shocked into Harry's cold, deadly serious eyes.

"What?" He whispered.

"I asked you which hand you would rather lose, Dung," Harry said as he traced the blade lightly over the top of Mundungus' wrists. "Answer me, Dung," Harry commanded but Mundungus was having trouble comprehending the situation. "Answer me!"

"Left!" Mundungus yelled, tears forming in his eyes, "left!"

"Okay then," Harry whispered, only a little louder than Mundungus had been which scared him more so. "Now I'm going to ask you _one final time_ : where is the necklace you stole from me?" Mundungus was silent once more so Harry continued. "I'm going to give you to the count of three to answer me, Dung… one-" Harry raised the knife slightly into the air, "…two-" he raised it to his full stretch, "thr-"

"I sold it!" Mundungus cried out finally, his face clenched in fear, "I sold it… to a young lad in Knockturn Alley… you prob'ly go school with him, sir, he was about your age… blond hair, smug face, the usual kind you see down here…"

"See, what wasn't so hard, was it?" Harry asked as he stood from the table, looking relaxed. Mundungus thought he had saved his skin until, quick as a flash, Harry raised the blade in his hand and brought it crashing down to the table, straight through Mundungus' right wrist. Mundungus' scream echoed through the building as his hand went limp against the table, blood pouring from his open wound. Harry leant as close to Mundungus' face as he could.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said mockingly, "did you mean your left or mine?" Mundungus' face was contorted in pain and Harry wasn't sure he was listening. "Look at me, Mundungus… LOOK AT ME! Good… now… _who do you not fuck with, Dung?"_

"Y…y… you, Mista Potta…" Mundungus whimpered, tears falling down his face.

"That's right… now listen to me very closely, Dung; I want that necklace found and returned to me within seventy-two hours, do you hear me?"

"I- I can't find it that quickly, s- sir, it- it could be anywhere!"

"Oh, I know it could. But I don't care where it is right now, I care about where it will be in seventy-two hours. You see, Dung, I came to you in a fairly good mood tonight but if I don't have that necklace back soon then I will be in a very bad mood, and you don't want to see me in a _very_ bad mood… so I suggest you find that necklace."

Harry stood and, with a flick of his hand, released Mundungus' hands from their entrapment to the table. He fell to the floor, clutching the stump that used to be connected to his hand, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Seventy-two hours, Dung," Harry said as he opened the door and strode out.

Hermione was leant with her back against a wall when Harry left the building and she made her way over to him.

"What happened?" she asked.

"We talked," Harry replied.

"I heard screaming."

"It was a loud talk," Harry said nonchalantly. Hermione decided it was best not to continue asking about the ordeal; Harry clearly didn't want to involve her too much in it and, if she was honest, Hermione wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know what Harry was capable of. Instead she accompanied him back through the numerous alleyways and into the open air of Diagon Alley where the lamps had been lit and the area seemed to hold an entirely new beauty with the golden shine that now shone upon it. Hermione didn't have time to appreciate it however as she followed Harry back into the Leaky Cauldron, where they found Sirius passed out on the floor, two young children braiding his hair. They managed to drag him to his feet and stumble back to the fireplace they had arrived in, cast some more Floor powder and disappeared into the flames.

 **Well, that's that chapter sorted. Thanks for reading and feel free to let me know your opinions with a review, they're all appreciated. As usual the next chapter will be uploaded pretty much as soon as it's ready.**


	4. Chapter 4: The Boggart

**I don't own any rights to Harry Potter despite my best efforts to steal the documents from JK Rowling's personal archives.**

 **I know it's been a while since I posted a chapter so I'm not gonna have a huge opening, I'll do all my rambling at the end, enjoy!**

* * *

Alastair Moody gave his front door a harsh push as he hastily tried to get into his house. The door had never been perfect but tonight it was being significantly less co-operative with him, which did not help Moody get out of the pouring rain any faster.

"Damn rusty hinges," Moody grumbled before giving one last shove and almost toppling over as the door finally gave way. He steadied himself and sighed. He removed his coat and was about to hang it up behind the door when he heard a noise that should not have been there.

 _Tap… tap… tap…_

Moody froze. Nobody was meant to be in the house without his permission and he was certainly not expecting guests. He slipped his wand out from his coat pocket and readied it by his side. He couldn't use his magical eye to scan the house for intruders as he had just taken it to Arthur Weasley for repairs, not expecting he would be wishing he had so soon after. Cursing the noise the rain was making outside, Moody strained his ears to hear any other sounds that might help him. He heard nothing except…

 _Tap, tap… tap…_

"Who's there?" Moody called out to the house as he made his way down the corridor. There weren't many rooms in his house and he knew he could check them all fairly quickly, but turning his back for a second could get him killed. "Show yourself!" he commanded, but nothing happened.

 _Tap… tap… tap…_

"Homenum Revelio," Moody muttered and waited. The spell didn't reveal anyone in the house to Moody so he eased himself a little, though not too much; " _constant vigilance!"_ his own voice told him. Knowing now that there was nobody in the house with him, Moody quickly swept through the closest rooms to him, trying to find the source of the tapping noise. He realised it was coming from the kitchen at the back of the house and edged his way closer to it. With all the other rooms checked, Moody pushed open the kitchen door while still shielding himself around the corner in case whatever was making the noise attacked him. When nothing happened, Moody rounded the corner, wand outstretched.

 _Tap… tap… tap…_

The kitchen window was open but caught on the latch with the wind blowing it back and forth, hitting itself against the window frame. Seeing this, lots of thoughts went through Moody's mind all at once. He wondered why the window was open, as surely any burglar who had come to the house would not have given up simply because they couldn't get through the window. Of course, it couldn't be a burglar anyway, as nothing in the house had been taken as he had noticed when searching it. Despite the door being faulty, Moody knew there were no problems with the windows, so somebody would have had to have manually opened it. He didn't recall opening it himself, meaning someone else had been to the house while he was away and left it open. But who? It couldn't have been Beatrice from next door as she was bed-ridden, and his other neighbours didn't particularly like him, so they had no reason to come to the house. For a moment he considered whether this was a foolish prank by the children of the area who all seemed to fear Moody and his strange eye and metal leg, but they knew better than to come too close to his house. No, someone had intentionally left the window open, which meant they probably wanted to lead him to the kitchen, which is exactly what he had done and that meant he was more than likely in a trap. But there had been no attack, no spells cast, no axe-murderer jumping out from behind the fridge, not even so much as a bucket of water on top of the doorframe to fall on him. But then Moody realised all too late exactly why he had been led there and why nobody had been shown to him when he cast Revelio.

He had left the front door open.

"Expell-" Moody cried as he whipped around but he was too late. A flash of red light from the front door illuminated the corridor and Moody collapsed.

* * *

"You can do this, Hermione…"

Hermione wasn't sure Harry was right. She stood with her wand outstretched, trying to hide the fact her hand was trembling. Her eyes were fixed on the lock of a black chest some fifteen feet away from her, waiting.

"It's not real, remember that…" Harry said as he stood against the wall, the chest on his left and Hermione on his right. Hermione didn't move. She knew what was about to happen and she wanted more than anything to run from the room. "Are you ready?" Harry asked and, after a few seconds, Hermione gave the slightest of nods. Harry flicked his wrist and the lock on the chest clicked open.

Nothing happened for a moment and Hermione wondered if they had gotten the right chest when the lid lifted ever so slightly and a hand gripped the underside of it. The hand lifted the lid and flung it open, allowing the arm, shoulder and the rest of the body attached to the hand to stand up. Hermione directed her wand at her mirror image as it stepped out of the box and took two steps forward. It was smirking evilly and walked with a swagger, cocky and arrogant, nothing like how the real Hermione moved.

"A boggart can't hurt you, remember that, Hermione," Harry half whispered, his eyes darting between the real Hermione and her doppelganger. "A boggart's only defence tactic is fear, don't let it scare you and you've already won."

The boggart's smile suddenly faltered and its eyes became cold and harsh. It glared at Hermione and Hermione glared back. She felt as if the boggart was staring right into her soul and felt her grip on her wand loosen ever so slightly. Then, just like last time, the boggart's face began to change; Hermione watched in silent horror as she saw her own body transform before her, her nose had grown and become more hooked, her eyes were entirely black with no life behind them and her mouth had grown, stretching from ear to ear with horrid fangs. From her back sprouted huge wings, black and ruffled while her fingers and nails stretched to resemble claws. The boggart let out an ear-splitting screech and Hermione felt her legs shake.

 _It's not real_ , she told herself, _it's not real…_

"It's only how you see yourself, Hermione," Harry said, as if he had read her mind, "and only you can change that. Remember the spell…"

Repeating the incantation over and over in her head, Hermione prepared herself to cast it. She tried wildly to think of something funny just like Harry had taught her, but she couldn't muster anything. She stood her ground and best she could and tightened her grip on her wand, hoping something would come to mind as she cast the spell.

"Ri-" she began but the boggart shrieked again, catching Hermione off-guard and making her take a step back.

 _Don't show fear_ , Harry's advice raced round her head, _sound confident even if you have to yell, it's just a projection of your thoughts it has no power over you…_

"Riddikulus!" Hermione said, trying to hide her shaking voice but it didn't work as the boggart let out another cry, much louder than before. "Riddikulus!" she bellowed over the boggart and the shrieking stopped, replaced by a shocked wailing. Hermione watched the boggart begin to spiral, getting wrapped up in its own wings, unable to move. It rose into the air like a champagne cork and hit the ceiling and began to fall back down towards the chest.

Suddenly it stopped just above the chest. It had stopped spiralling and was glaring now at Harry instead. Hermione's relief at finally defeating the boggart was quickly replaced by curiosity; she couldn't help but wonder what Harry Potter's greatest fear was. The boggart had never paid attention to him in their past lessons, but then it had never had to as Hermione had never defeated it before.

Harry whipped his wand out from beneath his sleeve but the boggart had already taken form, blurring for a moment as it spun and changed and achieved it's form for less than a second before Harry reacted, but it was just long enough for Hermione to register what form it had taken.

"Riddikulus," Harry said immediately and the boggart fell back, lost in a long black cloak that covered its face, spinning round and round until it lost its balance and fell back into the chest which slammed shut.

Hermione's legs gave way and she felt herself falling, the emotional drain of the fight with the boggart finally taking its toll. Fortunately, Harry seemed to have noticed her collapsing and summoned a bed of pillows from the corner of the room to lie beneath her, cushioning her fall. Despite being used for target practice they were still very comfortable, and Hermione felt she could fall asleep there and then.

"I did it," she whispered as she relaxed on the pillows.

"Yes, you did," Harry said as he locked the chest again and began to walk towards her. He flicked his wrist again and summoned more cushions to lie alongside Hermione which he lay upon. "You should be proud of yourself, most people are scared of stuff like spiders and mice and snakes, some people are still scared of Voldemort even now. Not a lot of people have to face themselves when they come up against a boggart."

Hermione was silent for a moment as Harry settled down. She thought she would be nervous with Harry in such close proximity to her but instead she had never felt more comfortable.

"You do," Hermione said, turning her head to look at Harry. It was a few seconds before Harry appeared to even acknowledge that she had said something, eventually turning his head to look at her.

"That's right, I do," Harry said.

"Why?" Hermione asked and Harry returned his eyes to the ceiling.

"A list of reasons, I'd be here all day if I went through them all," Harry chuckled and then fell silent again. Hermione wasn't sure what to say. Should she ask more or leave the subject entirely? If she did drop the subject then how could she smoothly transition the conversation to something else? She'd been thinking about what to do next so much that she hadn't noticed Harry was looking at her again, his face rather serious. "You're not safe around me, Hermione. A lot of people want me dead and I've done more than my fair share of bad deeds."

"Good people do bad things sometimes," Hermione said.

"And you think I'm a good person?"

"I know you are."

"You're too kind," Harry said with a small laugh, "the world could do with more kind people."

Harry fell silent again but this time his eyes didn't leave Hermione's. Hermione then realised that she was much closer to Harry than when they had first lay down and didn't know whether to draw back. She didn't _want_ to draw back, that much she knew. It was the first time she had truly been physically close to him when they weren't in a lesson and she enjoyed it. She had also never really seen his eyes. Beautiful green eyes that once gleamed, but now she could see past them and saw that they were sad and tired. Despite it being covered by his dark, untidy hair, she now saw his scar clearly for the first time; how it seared the skin like a burn, a permanent mark of evil, yet it did nothing to diminish his charm and style. He had cared for her since he had brought her into this world, kept her safe, taught her everything she needed to know and more, even distracted her from her issues with her mother. Memories of all the nights they had spent over the last Merlin-knows-knows-how-many weeks just enjoying each other's company, watching old films, talking, sitting outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour in Diagon Alley, performing her first act of real magic and the elation she felt, hugging him in pure excitement so tightly she may have cracked a rib or two, and the time she first faced the boggart and he had held her as she broke down, unable to defeat the monster in front of her. She cared for him deeply and couldn't imagine what life would have been like if she had not stumbled into Buxton Square that day.

"I'm dangerous, Hermione," Harry whispered, but they were so close now it didn't matter.

"I don't care," Hermione whispered back. She felt herself moving forward towards him and she was sure he did the same. She closed her eyes and-

"Merlin's beard, it's pissing down out there!"

With reflexes faster than she had ever seen, Harry had stood and sent his portion of pillows back to the corner of the room and was stood, ready to greet Ron and Luna as they entered the room, casting spells over their clothes and hair to dry themselves off. Hermione tried to look as nonchalant as possible on the pillows and ignored Luna's eyes as she smirked at her.

"You alright there, Harry? You look a bit flustered," Ron said as he pocketed his wand.

"I'm fine," Harry said rather stiffly, trying to sound casual, "I just… lost track of time."

Ron glanced at Hermione lay on a stack of pillows behind Harry and his eyes widened in shock.

"We're not interrupting something are we?" Ron asked carefully.

"No!" Harry and Hermione said together before Harry cleared his throat and continued, "No, err… Hermione just defeated her first boggart so she's just relaxing a little."

"Ah, that makes sense," Ron said, a look of mixed relief and agreement on his face, "I remember my first boggart, big bloody spider came crawling out of the wardrobe right at me, nearly needed a change of trousers there and then."

"You wanted to speak to me, Hermione?" Luna said, her eyes having never left Hermione since she had first noticed her lay on the pillows, a knowing smirk playing on her face.

"Yes please," said Hermione, now sitting up on the pillows.

"Come on Harry, let's leave the girls to talk," Ron said, walking over to Harry and putting his arm around him as they walked out, "we've got Quidditch to discuss."

"If you're going to try and convince me to bet on the Cannons to win the league this year then I'm not listening," Harry said as he left, giving one final smile to Hermione as they closed the door. As soon as the door clicked shut Luna pulled out her wand and summoned the pillows that Harry was using back over to the pile and sat on them beside Hermione.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" Luna asked.

"I was just wondering," Hermione began but realised she couldn't find the words to express what she was thinking, "do you remember a week or two after we first met, you told me that being a veela can exaggerate feelings for people?"

"Mhmm," Luna hummed.

"Well, how _far_ does it exaggerate things?" Hermione asked.

"Why?" Luna teased with a grin.

"Please just answer the question," Hermione pleaded.

"Fine," Luna sighed coyly, "the veela tends to handle the lustful side of things, but it will also direct you towards the path of your partner if it feels a bond. It will only ever boost feelings for people you already feel for, however, so you're not going to be looking at somebody you don't find attractive at all under a new light all of a sudden. The rule typically is if you just want to get into bed with them and nothing more then it's the veela acting up, if it's more than that then it's all you with a little extra veela kick for good measure."

Hermione sat in silence for a moment, unable to respond.

"Why don't you just tell Harry you like him?" Luna asked.

"What?" Hermione squeaked, "Who said anything about Harry?"

Luna raised one eyebrow and gave her a knowing smirk that Hermione couldn't lie to.

"Fine, I like Harry," she admitted and felt partly relieved to say it out loud and partly terrified. "But how am I supposed to _tell_ him something like that?"

"That's for you to figure out, Herm," Luna said, "Most guys all think and act the same so letting one of them you like them is just as simple as telling them – hell, that's all I did with Ron – but Harry… Harry's something different."

"What's he not telling me, Luna?" Hermione asked in a hushed tone, as if Harry was sat nearby, "he was talking about how he's a bad person and I'm not safe with him, what does he mean?"

"If Harry hasn't told you then it's not my place to, I'm sorry Herm," Luna said, "do you not feel safe with him?"

"I've never felt safer," Hermione confessed.

"Then don't worry. He'll tell you when he's ready, I've known Harry since I started at Hogwarts and I don't even know all his secrets, I imagine very few people do," Luna said, but noticing that Hermione was still troubled continued, "If you really want my opinion on this, I'd say wait for a while; you're about to start at Hogwarts, meeting a load of new people in a brand new place, better to get adjusted to all of that first without worrying about Harry. If I were you, I'd try and ignore it for now."

Hermione wasn't sure if she could do that. She had grown more and more close to Harry and thoroughly enjoyed being with him. She hoped he would still want to see her once term started, what with them being in different houses. The thought of losing him already left her feeling a little sick. But Luna was right; with everything else to worry about she didn't need to worry about losing Harry too, she would just have to be careful. Hermione nodded in agreement.

"So, what really happened before we walked in?" Luna asked as if she had been dying to for hours.

* * *

Sometime later the pair found themselves walking away from the training room and down towards a lounge area. Hermione was thinking about everything she and Luna had just talked about, different thoughts reeling through her mind.

"Did that deal with Travis end well?"

"No, the contract talks fell through. Apparantly Cooper wouldn't raise to meet Travis' wage demands despite the club having more than enough money to and it's a wage Travis deserves for his quality. He'll have hell to pay for this."

Hermione hadn't even realised they had arrived in the lounge until she was forced to find somewhere to sit. Luna had immediately sat with Ron on a large sofa across from Harry, who was sat in an armchair with a coffee table within reach of all of them, conveniently decorated with a plate of tea and biscuits. Hermione decided to seat herself between them all in a second armchair so she could see them all. Harry smiled warmly at her as she sat and she returned it as she grabbed a cup of tea from the table.

"Anyway, this is the third time Cooper has lost a contract through being purely arrogant. It was a bad idea to bring him to such a high-level team from the second league," Harry said.

"To be fair The Brown Cloaks was one of the best teams in the league while he was there," Ron pointed out.

"Maybe he should have stayed there then, the fame of the Knights seems to have gone straight to his head."

"Are you going to talk to him personally?" Ron asked, which baffled Hermione. Why would Harry talk personally to who she could only assume was the manager of a quidditch team?

"No, I'll talk with the other board members and we'll decide then if we want to call a vote of no confidence. If it gets a majority then we'll remove him," Hermione said.

"But you _own_ the Knights, can't you just kick him out?" Luna asked but was almost cut off when Hermione nearly spit out her tea.

"You _own_ a Quidditch team?" she asked, surprised.

"Well, I'm allowed _some_ liberties with my money, aren't I?" he asked rhetorically.

"They've finished in the top three of the league every year since Harry took over, completely reworked the staff and players, whole new training grounds and stadium as well as Firebolts for the whole lot," Ron said like a proud father as Harry hid his head in one of his hands, the other being used to hold his tea. Luna didn't help things by pointing out that the Knights had also won the European Cup earlier that year which perked Ron up even more. "I'll tell you what, if you do get rid of Cooper, send him over our way."

"The Cannons have a wonderful manager as it is, Ron," Harry said, as if he was trying to convince Ron of this, "Julia Fitz was a wonderful chaser in her day and would have played for many years more if that bludger hadn't snapped her leg. In her prime not even _I_ would have liked to have gone up against her."

"Pfft, you're the best chaser Hogwarts has seen in years, you could beat Fitz in a heartbeat," Ron argued.

"I still wouldn't want to risk it, she was a fine flyer and an even better shot and she is proving to be a great manager despite her age."

"You play Quidditch?" Hermione asked, not meaning to interrupt the discussion.

"Yes, I'm a chaser for Slytherin, and we would have won the Cup last year if Nicholson had caught the snitch three seconds later," Harry said with a little bitterness in his voice.

"Leaving Gryffindor as the champions _again,_ " Ron said smugly.

"What are you on about? We beat you the year before," Harry laughed.

"And Ravenclaw won the year before that," Luna interjected.

"You weren't there when they won, it doesn't count," Ron said.

"Sorry to break up the party but Snivellus is here to see you, Harry," came a voice from behind them and they turned to see Sirius stood there with a tall, bored looking man with a hooked noise and flat, black hair.

"Severus, is it that time already?" Harry said as he stood and shook the hand of the man called Severus. "Hermione, I intended to take you to Diagon Alley to get some last-minute things before term starts but I seem to have lost track of time, shall we-"

"We could take her if you like?" Luna interrupted, "we were heading there anyway for some shopping of our own."

Harry looked to Hermione, awaiting a decision and she nodded.

"Perfect, thank you Luna, I appreciate it," Harry said and turned back to Severus, "shall we?"

Severus bowed a little and gestured for Harry to lead on out the door. Harry gave some quick goodbyes and left, followed by Severus and then Sirius, though Sirius turned a different way once reaching the door.

Harry lead Severus back to the training room and locked the door behind them.

"If it's potions you need help with, Harry, I'm sure Lupin could-" Snape began but Harry interrupted him.

"It's not that, Sev. I need your advice on some thoughts I've been having regarding Dark Magic."

"Oh yes?" Severus asked, clearly interested, "And what would it be in regard to?"

"How to deflect the Killing Curse," Harry said and was relieved to see Snape grin. If there was anyone who could help him with his, it was his Potions Master.

* * *

Remus sat at his piano in his study. Harry's riches came in very handy for him, allowing him to have the life of luxury he had always dreamed of. Having his own study gave him a place he could come to relax and let off some steam, whether that be at his piano or reading one of the many books that lined the walls or even tending to the plants in his small, interior garden. It was like his own shell and he had never felt more comfortable. When working on new music he would have all windows and doors shut but when rehearsing a well-known piece or simply enjoying a freelance rhythm he preferred to have the door open; he always found that hearing music lifted his spirits when he went about his day and he hoped others felt the same when they heard him playing.

"You always liked this one," he said as he began a slow, sweet tune.

"You always played it so well," came a voice Remus had not heard in years from the door behind him. As he played, he heard light footsteps walk over to him and felt the leather alter beneath him as his visitor sat beside him. Remus removed his eyes from the piano keys for a moment to look into the face of Marie Turner, sat beside him with a warm smile as always. The music stopped and there was silence for a while as they observed each other. Remus slowly lifted his hand and stroked Marie's cheek.

"As beautiful as the day I first saw you," Remus said, kissing her for the first time in years.

"I see you haven't lost your charm," Marie chuckled. She cocked her head as her hand traced the edge of one of Remus' scars. "You never liked these," she muttered, "I always thought they made you look more dashing."

"I should have known Hermione was yours, she has your face," Remus said, his eyes not leaving Marie's, "and if Harry's honest about her then she's just as smart as you too."

"No," Marie said, "she's smarter, always has been."

Silence fell between the pair again and stayed that way for a minute or so before Remus asked her what she had been dreading.

"Why did you leave?"

"I was scared, Remus," Marie sighed.

"We all were," Remus said but not harshly. He never rose his voice and avoided sounding hostile whenever possible.

"I don't know what else to tell you, Lupe," Marie said, "I saw war and fighting and death and I ran. Can you really blame me for that?"

"No, I don't," Lupin admitted, "And if my friends had not been so directly affected by Voldemort, I cannot promise I wouldn't have done the same."

Neither of them talked for a moment. Finally, Marie mustered the courage to say what she needed to.

"I can't stay, Remus."

"We can protect you-"

"I'm not ready to come back to it all yet. One day I will but not now. You'll see me again, Lupe. After all, it's not like I'm never going to want to see my daughter again," Marie laughed.

"You're both welcome here, always," Remus said.

"I know," Marie nodded. She leaned forward once more and closed her eyes as she kissed him, Remus doing the same, hesitating ever so slightly as she drew away. "Bye Lupe."

Remus did not open his eyes. He didn't want to watch her walk away again. Instead he waited for the sound of her footsteps to fade away before returning to his piano, a melancholy tune echoing through the house as he tried to ignore the tears on his cheek.

* * *

"Relax, Hermione, you'll be fine," Harry said.

Hermione was too nervous to talk. She stood outside Professor McGonagall's office waiting to be tested on how well she could perform up to third year magic. If she failed, she would be forced to join a younger year and learn everything again. This was hardly a time to be relaxed.

"You've been brilliant, Hermione. Just do in there like you've done with me and you'll pass with flying colours."

"And if I don't?" Hermione couldn't help but ask, hoping Harry would have a different answer than the one she knew to be true.

"Then… you enter a lower year," Harry said with a sigh, "but that's not going to happen because you're an amazing witch and Minnie will see as much when you go in there."

"I hope you're right," Hermione muttered and fiddled with her hands. She heard Harry inhale like he was about to say something when a different voice got there first.

"Harry, Miss Granger, little early for the new year, aren't we?"

Professor Dumbledore came shuffling down the corridor towards them in a set of purple robes, his half-moon spectacles resting some way down his nose.

"Headmaster," Harry said with a slight bow, "Professor McGonagall is about to assess Hermione before term begins."

"Ah yes, got to make sure we're not throwing you in at the deep end," Dumbledore hummed, "although if Harry feels you are up to the task then I have no doubts in my mind that you are beyond ready, my dear."

Hermione smiled at the old Headmaster and Harry but failed to maintain it when the door before them opened and there stood professor McGonagall in her emerald robes.

"Miss Granger, with me please," she said with her Scottish twinge and Hermione followed, giving one last glance to Harry who winked at her before she disappeared behind the door.

"Harry, I wonder if I might have a word?" Dumbledore asked and Harry obliged. Harry began to follow Dumbledore back along the corridor when Professor McGonagall called after him.

"Oh, Potter? Remember, in front of other students, it's Professor McGonagall, if you please."

"Sorry, Professor," Harry said with his charming grin that even Professor McGonagall couldn't help but smile at as she closed the door. Harry followed Dumbledore back along the corridors, through the entrance hall and over towards the spiralling staircase that lead to Dumbledore's office. Once inside, Dumbledore sat behind his desk with a cheerful sigh as Harry gestured for the candles to light in the darkening room. The sun was setting outside, casting a deep shade of mauve across the darkening sky.

"Tea, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, gesturing to the floating teapot on his desk. Harry politely declined and stood before Dumbledore's desk. Patiently, Harry waited as Dumbledore had his tea poured, added two sugars, stirred it several times and took a sip. With a satisfied hum, Dumbledore set the teacup back on its saucer and reached into a side drawer of his desk, out of which he took a gold chain that Harry recognised. "I believe this belongs to you, Harry."

Harry outstretched his hand and the necklace uncoiled itself from Dumbledore's fingers before slowly flying over into Harry's palm. The engraving of the stag with lilies woven into its antlers proved to Harry enough it was the one stolen from Tanner cottage but that didn't answer how Dumbledore had it. As if reading his mind, Dumbledore answered his unasked question.

"This came to my possession from Mister Lucius Malfoy. Apparantly he found his son plotting how best to use it to blackmail you and swiftly took it from him. He brought it to me just this morning," Dumbledore said as he took another sip of tea. "Whatever did happen to Mundungus Fletcher, Harry?"

"Well Professor, I can only tell you what I've heard of course," Harry said with a knowing smile, "but I _heard_ that he was found hiding in France and beaten to within an inch of his life."

"Indeed, I heard similarly," Dumbledore said, smiling back. "And Miss Granger… how much does she know?"

"She knows I wasn't too friendly with Dung the last time I saw him but that's just because she followed me. She knows I'm a horcrux and that one day I'll have to die to kill Voldemort. That's everything she knows that isn't public knowledge," Harry said as he looked out across the grounds, the locket now sitting comfortable in his shirt pocket.

"I see," Dumbledore said, sipping his tea again, "and how is she?"

"Hermione? She's good," Harry found himself lingering on Hermione for a moment and couldn't hide a genuine smile spreading across his face. "She's wonderful… but whatever you're thinking, Professor, it can't happen."

"And why not?" Dumbledore asked almost defensively.

"You know why, Professor," Harry sighed. "You know what I am. I can't subject her to that. She deserves better."

"Harry, surely you being alive right now is enough to show you that love is the most powerful force on this earth," Dumbledore said.

"It's not that simple, Professor," Harry argued, "besides right now isn't the time. She's got too much on her plate without having to deal with me and my… baggage. I can't risk losing someone like her just because I-"

"Told her the truth?" Dumbledore finished Harry's sentence for him. Harry sighed heavily, still looking out of the window across the grounds. "You are not a monster, Harry. She knows that, as do we all. Come, let's take a walk. Miss Granger will be done by the time we reach Minnie's office."

Harry finally left the window at Dumbledore's suggestion and followed him out of his office.

* * *

Glasses clinked as the group sat in the lounge of the manor, drinking and eating in celebration.

"Passed with flying colours," Harry said proudly, "welcome to the club, Hermione."

"Cheers," echoed around the room as Hermione, Harry, Ron, Luna, Sirius and Remus drank Harry's best supply of butterbeer.

"Feels so odd to be drinking," Hermione confessed as she sipped her butterbeer.

"It's fine," Ron said, "after all, we're with responsible adults."

"I can't promise anything about being responsible," Sirius said before bellowing with laughter.

"You always were a lightweight," said Remus, who was on his fourth bottle already and appeared completely unphased.

"Well you were always _mean_ ," Sirius said, sticking his tongue out at Remus and getting a few laughs from the others.

"Harry looks like he's built up an immunity to alcohol at this point," Luna teased.

"I drink often," Harry admitted. "Maybe too often," he added with a wink at Hermione. Hermione had never had her own beer before, even the Firewhisky Harry had given her all that time ago had been her first real

The night slowly progressed and by the early morning everyone was beginning to fall asleep. Hermione assumed Remus had gone to bed as he had disappeared, Sirius was passed out on the sofa, legs sprawled everywhere, and Ron and Luna had fallen asleep cuddled together on their own sofa.

"Dobby," Harry whispered so as not to wake anyone, and the house elf appeared at his command. "Could you fetch a blanket from one of the spare rooms for Ron and Luna? And best get one for Sirius too, please."

"Right away, Master Harry. Would Master Harry like me to clean up the plates and drinks too?" Dobby replied excitedly.

"Don't worry, Dobby, I'll handle the plates. We'll clean the rest in the morning, okay?"

"Right away Master Harry, Sir," Dobby said and scurried off to find blankets. Flicked his wrist and the rest of the plates and bottles flew into the air and out the door, heading for the kitchen, Harry walking behind them out of the lounge. Dobby returned shortly after with blankets and Hermione, with nothing else to do, took one and placed it over Luna and Ron while Dobby tended to Sirius. She couldn't help but think the pair of them looked so cute with each other, Luna lying on Ron's chest as he held her close. Luna stirred a little and Hermione stepped back, worried she had disturbed them when she saw one plate stuck beneath Luna's hip. Hermione slowly leant down and gently slid the plate out from beneath her. Fortunately, she knew where the kitchen was so she headed out of the lounge and down the corridor after it.

Hermione heard running water and saw bubbles of different colours floating out of the kitchen doorway as she approached. As she rounded the corner of the kitchen, she saw Harry stood in front of a sink washing the dishes by hand, his shirt sleeves rolled up part his elbows and his top buttons undone. It was a good look for him.

"Thought you might want this," Hermione said, holding the plate aloft like a trophy.

"Ah, thank you," Harry said as he glanced up at her, "just drop it in the sink here, I'll deal with it."

Hermione did as she was told and placed the plate in the sink, not hearing it hit the bottom. She wondered if the sink was enchanted to hold more than it should as she knew they had used a lot of plates and glasses and yet there were none on any draining boards or counters. She stood beside Harry thinking about what to say.

"Why are you washing the dishes by hand?" Hermione asked.

"Some mundane tasks can be quite relaxing when you have things on your mind," Harry answered. Hermione wondered what things he had on his mind but knew he could be quite private about such matters so decided not to press further.

"So, I realised I never really thanked you for helping me learn everything I needed to for the start of the year," she said, which was more of a statement than an actual thank you.

"The pleasure was all mine, Hermione," Harry said, his eyes not leaving the dishes, "you were a wonderful student and you getting into our year is to your own merit."

"Maybe, but I wouldn't have gotten anywhere without you," Hermione said, now making things up on the spot. "I guess what I'm trying to say is…" she began but didn't know what else to say. She couldn't just say _thank you_ for bringing her into the Wizarding World, introducing her to Hogwarts, paying for all her tuition and equipment and personally teaching her everything. She wanted to tell him how much she appreciated what he had done for her, how she felt about him, how she couldn't imagine living in the muggle world again, how it was all thanks to him that she was here and how much it meant to her. Clearly, she had spent too long thinking about what to say as Harry had noticed and was now no longer looking at the dishes, but at her instead. Without really telling herself to Hermione felt herself being pushed onto her tiptoes to reach Harry and pressing her lips against his, kissing him for all of a second before realising what she had done and lowering herself again. "Thanks," she said simply and quickly turned and left the kitchen, feeling utterly embarrassed and her face blushing profusely.

Meanwhile, Harry stood in the kitchen dumbfounded but elated. He was staring at the doorway where he last seen Hermione before she disappeared, the taste of her lips still on his. If he had been unsure of what to do before, now he was utterly lost.

A few gentle coughs came from the corner of the room and Harry turned to see Remus sat at the kitchen table, reading the Daily Prophet.

"How long have you been there?" Harry asked, a twinge of concern in his voice.

"Long enough," Remus said, not looking away from his paper.

Harry dried his hands, straightened his collar and flicked his wrist to make the dishes wash themselves. He didn't see Remus smirking as he left the kitchen for his room.

* * *

 **Okay, now that the chapter's over with (and I really hope you liked it) I can address why it's taken so long to post this. Pure and simple, I lost my writing motivation and not just for HP fics but across all my writing, personal projects included. I couldn't bring myself to write and when I did it was stuff that I wasn't happy with. Only recently have I finally started to get back into the swing of things and writing things that I actually like, hence why the chapter has been uploaded. I didn't want to post a chapter I wasn't happy with just to get a chapter up, so that's why I really hope you like this chapter cos I spent a lot of time working it to a point that I actually liked it. Then again at the time of writing this I've been awake for 19 hours straight which is not how my body usually functions (I like my naps) so I may have left some mistakes in but I think I got all of them and rewrote everything I wanted to.**

 **Anyway, I plan on being more frequent with my uploads now like I used to be, maybe not every month but I'm certainly going to be encouraging myself to write more.**

 **By the way I have a Tumblr if you want to follow me there, the link is in my profile section or if you want to just search it should be the same as my username here ( areallyboredhufflepuff ) and the profile pic is of Hagrid with his eyes pointing in different directions. I don't know if this breaks community guidelines by self-promoting myself so somebody feel free to let me know if I am, but if anybody wants updates from me that's the best place to look. I haven't posted a lot there yet but that's mainly because I haven't really had a lot to post about. Hope to see you there :)**

 **On an honest note from the heart thank you to everyone that left reviews and positive comments on the previous chapter, they really encouraged me to write again and I really wanted to get my best stuff out for you guys.**

 **As always feel free to leave a review and tell me what you think, all reviews are appreciated.**


	5. Chapter 5: Arriving at the World Cup

**Sorry for the long gaps between chapters, I know I said I was going to try and get them out faster but things get in the way and I can only apologise. I've already started work on the next chapter so if the stars align I will hopefully have that one out to you sooner than how long it took to get this one out. Anyway, enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

"You did _what?!"_ Luna yelled, Hermione desperately trying to shush her.

"I kissed Harry," Hermione whispered.

"You _kissed-!"_ Luna began but was shushed again so she lowered her tone. "You kissed Harry?"

"Sort of."

"What do you mean "sort of"?"

"I mean I kind of caught him off-guard, he was washing the dishes-"

"Oh, how romantic," Luna said sarcastically to which Hermione rolled her eyes. She turned to look out of Ron's bedroom window and observed the many fields around the Burrow, in one of which she spotted Harry and Ron walking slowly. It seemed a very peaceful place, especially in the slowly lowering sun, such that Hermione found her mind wandering.

Hermione had been slightly stunned the first time she saw the Burrow, as it was the first house she had seen that was truly full of magic. Harry's manor was one thing but anybody could walk into it and assume a perfectly normal muggle lived there; this would not have been possible at the Burrow, with pots and pans flying everywhere cooking and washing by themselves, a set of knitting needles gradually putting together a lovely scarf and especially with the gnomes running around in the back garden. Mrs Weasley had practically suffocated Hermione with a hug when she first arrived, going on about how "Harry's told us all about you" and "how awful it must be to find out all of this so late". Mr Weasley was equally welcoming, although thankfully he didn't insist on hugging Hermione to death. Instead he bumbled around the house, cracking jokes and making merry as he went. It was at dinner that Hermione realised how fascinated by muggles he was, as he spent the evening casually asking Hermione about everything from the newest cars to the latest celebrities. Fred and George, for the brief time that Hermione had met them, had been very kind to her but quickly left as they were apparantly working on something very important but wouldn't tell anyone what it was. Hermione was slightly stunned by how pretty Ginny was even after being out playing Quidditch all day and tried to sound as confident AS her when they first met. Had Hermione been alone when meeting her she would have felt extremely intimidated by Ginny, but as both Harry and Luna were there with her she felt less like the centre of attention, just the way she liked it.

"So how was he?" Luna asked but before Hermione could even roll her eyes there was a knock at the door and Ginny peaked her head in.

"Supper's ready, then we'd best get to bed. It's an early start tomorrow and I like to be awake when I hike," she said before disappearing from the door again. Hermione needed no excuse to dodge Luna's interrogation so she stood from the bed and waited for Luna before leaving, but not without Luna promising to interrogate her later.

* * *

Hermione was running.

A forest surrounded her as she sprinted as fast as she could through the trees and something was behind her. She didn't know what. She didn't want to know. The voices were calling out to her, laughing, jeering, rejoicing in her fear. The void of darkness around her was suffocating, trapping her in an endless hunt. The thing was getting closer.

"Hermione…"

Her name echoed around, like there were dozens of people whispering it directly in her ear. She couldn't stop. She had to keep running. If she didn't…

"Hermione!"

A voice called her name as a branch grabbed her arm. She turned, trying to free her arm from the branch. She had to keep running! But then she realised it wasn't a branch that had grabbed her- it was a hand, and that hand belonged to the person she realised had called her name. She had no idea how she hadn't noticed that Harry was there but she was overjoyed to see him. He was here. She was safe.

He pulled her to him, his arm holding her waist close to him. She stared deep into his eyes, never wanting to look away. No longer afraid, she gently grabbed the hair on the back of his head and pulled his lips to hers, tasting him, throwing all the fear she had been feeling to the wind. He pulled her closer and the floor seemed to fall beneath them. They were rising through the air, leaving the forest and whatever Hermione had been running from behind. When Hermione opened her eyes they were in a cloud, daylight shining on them. She was with him, and that's all that mattered.

"Hermione…" he whispered in her ear and it sent a chill down her spine. She gripped his hair tighter, felt his tongue with her own, his hands moved across her-

"Hermione," a different voice said from not far away but Hermione didn't care. "Wake up," it commanded but she didn't want to. She wanted to stay here forever with Harry. This was paradise. "Hermione," the voice said again and this time Hermione couldn't stop herself from letting go. Without knowing why, she turned away from Harry and saw a woman stood a few yards away dressed in a white robe. Her black hair flowed down her back, her eyes were so blue Hermione thought for a second that they were pure sapphires. "You need to wake up, Hermione. It's time..." she said as she slowly seemed to lose all colour and fade away. In a second she was gone and Hermione returned her attention to Harry but was shocked to see that he was disappearing too. He caressed her cheek one last time before he too vanished, leaving Hermione alone.

"Wake up," voices began to echo once more, one she recognised as the woman who had just been by her side. Another slowly became louder and louder as the voices spoke, one she was sure she knew but couldn't place. Hermione's knees felt weak, the floor seemed to slip from under her and suddenly all she saw was darkness.

* * *

Hermione was woken from her dream by a gentle shaking on her shoulder which she quickly realised was Ginny.

"Come on, time to go," she whispered before leaving her to get dressed in privacy.

Hermione threw on a quick outfit she liked and tried her best to fix her bedhead hair before grabbing her satchel and joining Ginny outside. They began to make their way downstairs when a door ahead of them opened and steam came floating out. Worried it was Mr Weasley about to step out before them, Hermione was about to avert her eyes before she recognised the untidy black hair of Harry stepping out of the door and that desire stopped immediately.

"Morning, Harry" Ginny said as she passed.

"Ladies," Harry greeted back with a half bow and a smile, his glasses somehow unaffected by the steam. He was already in a pair of grey sweat shorts and still drying his hair as he talked.

"Good run?" Ginny asked now onto the next flight of stairs with Hermione close behind her.

"Little chilly to be honest, Gin. Might be worth grabbing a jacket for the hike," he replied and made his way upstairs. Hermione dragged her eyes away from him and followed Ginny downstairs to breakfast.

By the time the whole group had gathered in the kitchen the sky outside had grown ever so slightly brighter than when Hermione had first arrived and the subtle sound of birds chirping was slipping in through the windows. Harry sat reading a nameless booth with one hand in the living room, while the other held a half-eaten piece of toast. Ron was trying in earnest not to fall asleep again, his arm around Luna who was trying to charm a pair of earrings to change colour depending on the weather. Hermione startled a little as she stirred her tea when Ginny appeared out of nowhere and hopped onto the kitchen counter beside her, tucking into an apple.

"You seem rather excited," Hermione said, sipping her tea.

"How can I not be?" Ginny replied, "It's the Quidditch _World Cup_ , and it's here! In England! Who are you supporting?"

Hermione was slightly taken aback. She hadn't given who she would be cheering on much consideration and now realised it probably would have been a good idea to decide on it before the match.

"Ireland, I suppose," Hermione said and Ginny nodded.

"Can't beat the Irish, they've got spirit without a doubt, but I don't think I'd ever bet against Krum."

"Krum?"

"Viktor Krum, Seeker for the Bulgarian national team at only eighteen, he's still in school!" Ginny summoned a magazine from across the room and flipped through the pages, coming to a stop on a spread bearing the moving image of a handsome young man, the other page looking like the beginning to his biography. "Apparantly Krum slipped up during this interview and his agent cut it short, something about him supposedly staying in England for a while after the World Cup and that's where it ends. I wonder what he could have meant..."

"Everybody ready?" Mr Weasley called out and the party slowly began to file out through the kitchen door into the dim sunlight.

Just like Harry had said, there was a slight chill in the air when the group finally set off from the Burrow and out into the countryside. Harry and the Weasleys were leading the way through the forest and fields so Hermione took the opportunity to hang back a little with Luna and tell her about her dream. Speaking in whispers as to make sure nobody overheard them, Hermione told Luna all about the woman from her dream, how she had appeared as if from nothing, telling her to-

"Wake up?" Luna asked, "are you sure you weren't just hearing Ginny?"

"Well yes, eventually the voice changed to be Ginny but it was definitely the woman who was saying it first," Hermione explained. Luna fell silent for a moment, humming to herself as she thought.

"What was the rest of the dream about?" she asked at last.

"Books," Hermione said a little too quickly, feeling her face flush immediately. Luna had become her closest friend beside Harry, but she'd be damned if she ever detailed her dreams of Harry to anyone. Luna laughed and Hermione knew her feeble attempt at a lie had not fooled her but she didn't push the matter.

"Maybe it was Avalyn," Luna said with a chuckle, but if it was meant to be a joke then Hermione didn't understand why. Hermione asked who Luna was talking about, so she continued, "well, _supposedly_ , the first of each kind of creature and magical beings gained so much power that they surpassed death and were able to exist after their bodies died. According to some very old books I read when I first realised I was veela, Avalyn was the first of our kind and has spent the years after her death watching over her veela children and bestowing her gifts upon those she deems worthy. That would explain why people with no veela ancestors like you and I gain our powers: she gives them to us. All the others do it too, the first werewolf, first vampire, even Merlin! Gosh, I guess that means you got hit with a double whammy, if it's all true anyway."

"Do you think it's true?" Hermione asked and Luna twisted her face a little.

"I've never seen any proof that they're real with my own eyes, but I have no room to speak; most of the world don't know we exist but we do. Who knows… maybe you have a god looking out for you."

Hermione wanted to ask more but she was cut off by Arthur calling for them to hurry up as they were getting close. Making a mental note to research more into Avalyn, Hermione and Luna stepped out from the treeline and began scaling a large hill before them. The mud was dry which made it much easier to climb but Hermione still didn't feel entirely confident that she wasn't going to go tumbling down the hill at any moment. As the pair reached the summit two hands appeared to help them, one being Ron's that Luna gladly took and the other being Harry's. Hermione held tight and let him pull her to her feet, glad that she had made it to the top in one piece.

"Is that what I think it is?" Hermione asked, eyeing an old boot a small distance away from them.

"That would depend on what you think it is," Harry answered.

"Well, first and foremost I think it's a boot."

"That is, indeed, a boot."

"I _also_ think it's a portkey."

"That is, indeed, _also_ a portkey," Harry chuckled as they made their way towards it. Hermione hadn't noticed until now that their party had gained two new people: a handsome teenage boy who looked only a few years older than her and a significantly older man who must have been his father. The older man was talking with Arthur while the younger sat with Fred and George. "Amos and Cedric Diggory," Harry whispered in her ear, "Cedric's still a student at Hogwarts and captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, superb flier."

"Right everyone! Thirty seconds!" Arthur called to the group and everyone rushed to grab their things. Hermione felt very confused as Harry took her hand and led her to the boot, kneeling down to grab a small part of it. She copied him and grabbed onto the boot beside Harry's hand as Luna, Amos, Cedric and the Weasley's all did the same.

"What's happening?" Hermione quietly asked Harry but his only answer was a wink and grin which made Hermione both want to laugh and also hit him. Arthur counted down from ten and when he reached two Hermione held her breath. Arthur's countdown finished and all of a sudden Hermione felt herself rushing through the air, moving faster than seemed humanly possible. Releasing her breath she joined in with the others as they laughed and cheered through the air, spinning like a tornado.

"Let go!" Arthur called before long and one by one everyone let go of the boot and disappeared from sight. Hermione suddenly felt terrified. What did he mean let go? Surely they were hundreds of feet up in the air, there was nowhere to go but tumbling to the ground. She turned to Harry who she was glad to see was still there beside her and, rather annoyingly, was still grinning.

"See you on the ground," he laughed and let go of the boot, shooting away from her. Hermione called after him but of course he couldn't hear her, he was surely falling to his death at this very moment. Hermione realised she was the last person still holding onto the boot. With no other options before her, Hermione closed her eyes and let go of the boot.

The fall was nowhere near as far as she thought, as she hit the ground in a matter of seconds. She couldn't help but laugh at what had just happened, despite the small pain she had from lying flat on her back. A shadow stood over her clouding her vision, but she recognised that untidy hair anywhere.

"Not the most elegant of landings," Harry chuckled as he helped Hermione to her feet, "but certainly not the worst I've seen."

"Where are we?" Hermione asked, trying to see through the darkness that had enveloped them.

"A field, hopefully not too far from the camps. I think we may be about to get a real answer," Harry said, pointing to a lamp making its way towards them through the darkness. As it got closer, Arthur called out to it.

"Good morning, Clark!"

"Mornin', Arthur!" called a voice from the lamp as an old man slowly became visible, the lamp beside him levitating next to his head, lighting up a clipboard he was reading from as he approached. "Let's see, Weasley… Weasley… I'm afraid your portkey has dropped you off a little far from your plot, same for you Mister Potter. Head out onto the main road and turn left, you'll find your plot a couple miles from here, ask for Jeffreys. As for you, Mister Diggory, you and your son are in plot sixty-five, if you'll follow me."

The Diggory's bid their farewells and left with Clark as the rest of them made their way across the field to a large wooden gate. The Weasley youth and Luna raced each other to it and quickly hopped over the gate before setting off up the road, leaving Arthur, Harry and Hermione a little way back. Arthur joked about how he wasn't as young as he used to be, else he'd have been over the gate in a second with them. Harry opened the gate for them as they approached, stepping back to let them through before locking it behind him and joining them.

"How's Alastair's eye?" Harry asked Arthur as they set off after the other.

"No real issues, just a general clean and tune-up. Although it's odd; he's usually very punctual with his appointments but he hasn't been to pick it up yet, even though I told him it would be ready after a day or two… that was a while ago. I know he has a spare somewhere in that house of his but I can't help but think that something's wrong."

"That is odd," Harry agreed, "I could call Tonks and get her to take a look…?"

"Oh I wouldn't bother her with it, you know Mad-Eye he's… well..."

"Mad?" Hermione finished for him.

"Exactly," Arthur laughed.

"And have you made any progress with the TV broadcast?" Harry asked.

"Oh yes! That reminds me," Arthur said as he reached into his pocket and took out what look a heavily modified camcorder. "I've been working on this. Now – hopefully – when I turn this on it will broadcast to an old television I found lying around my garage. It worked fine when I first tested it but of course that was only one TV and I was sat right in front of it, with any luck it will still be able to broadcast from this distance. I've told Molly I'll film the match and she's assured me she'll be keeping an eye on the screen to see if it works."

It was then that the group became aware of a car which was slowing down to crawl alongside them. The window rolled down and there sat Cornelius Fudge looking rather bemused.

"Harry? Is that you?" Fudge asked.

"Indeed it is, Minister," Harry said as they continued walking down the road.

"What on earth are you doing?"

"Walking to our camp. Nothing better than a morning walk to wake you up for the day, wouldn't you agree?"

"Uhm… yes, yes you're quite right, Harry," Cornelius said, calling for his driver to stop. Harry's eyes widened as he realised that he had accidentally invited the Minister to join them but the look of immediate regret was well hidden behind his smile.

"Well, I think I'd best check on the others," Arthur said to Harry and Hermione as Cornelius climbed out of his car and brushed his suit and cloak down.

"Are you sure, Arthur?" Harry asked through gritted teeth, not letting his happy façade fall.

"Yes, who knows what in the world they're getting up to over there. I'm sure the Minister will be more than happy to accompany you the rest of the way," Arthur said as he quickened his pace severely and joined the others way ahead of them.

"I'm sure he will," Harry muttered and Hermione couldn't help but giggle at the obvious disdain in Harry's voice.

"Arthur not joining us?" Cornelius asked as his car sped off down the road.

"He's just gone to check on the others, I'm sure he'll be back before long. I must say, Cornelius, I expected you to be arriving at the Cup by Floo powder," Harry said.

"Well yes, usually I would but I felt a more discrete entry would be better for this; so many people flooding into the country for the match, you don't know who's who around here."

"I agree, although I feel arriving with us might not be so discrete."

"Oh, don't worry about that, Harry. I'm sure there'll be no trouble, especially with you around! I've seen you perform magic at your age that I didn't learn until many years after I left Hogwarts! Which brings me to my next thought; have you considered the Tournament any more than when we last spoke?" Cornelius didn't seem put off by the sigh that Harry let loose at question.

"As I told you, Cornelius, I will _consider_ it, and if I do decide to submit my name for the Triwizard Tournament then you'll have to wait and see if my name pops out of the cup just like everybody else," Harry laughed but Hermione's ears pricked up. The Triwizard Tournament? Hermione had read about that in one of Harry's library books, it was said to be the most brutal contest in all of the Wizarding World, hence why it had been banned. A sudden image of Harry's corpse flashed across her mind and she quickly brushed it away, not wanting to give life to her fear.

"Oh come now, Harry! Anyone who knows you knows that if you put your name in that cup it will certainly choose you as the Hogwarts champion, no doubt about it!"

"If that is true, Cornelius, then you can see my apprehension for submitting my name, I could well be signing my own death certificate."

"Nonsense! I daresay if we resurrected You-Know-Who and placed him in the games you'd even beat _him_ \- forgive me, that was insensitive," Cornelius quickly added when Harry shot him a very dark look. Hermione had heard Harry be strict and knew he was hiding a darker side of himself, but she had never seen it herself until now.

"The day Tom Riddle is brought back from death will be a grim day for the world, not a day for games, Cornelius," Harry said simply.

"No… of- of course, that was foolish of me," Cornelius looked rather embarrassed by his words and Hermione dared not say anything to break the silence.

"It would appear we've arrived at our lot," Harry said. Hermione looked ahead and saw that the Weasleys were talking to a young man with a clipboard similar to the one Clark had had. They were led off by an escort into the field and disappeared behind some very elegant tents. The trio approached the young man who was still ticking things off his clipboard as they arrived.

"Names?" he asked.

"Names? Don't you know who this is?" Cornelius asked like he was talking to a simpleton.

"Cornelius," Harry said flatly as the young man looked up from his clipboard and struggled to say anything.

"This is Harry Potter! The Boy Who Lived! The-"

" _Cornelius."_

"You should show more respect to the boy who did more as a baby than you have in-"

"Cornelius!" Harry yelled, glaring at the Minister, not bothering to hide the anger in his voice. "I _do not_ expect everyone in the bloody world to know who I am, and neither should you. Apologise to the lad."

Cornelius seemed to be doing his best impression of a fish, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for his words. Eventually he seemed to find them, sighing heavily before uttering: "You're right, I'm very sorry, young man."

"Good. I do hope you have more decorum for those you don't consider beneath you," Harry said, moving his cold gaze to the young man and instantly transforming it into a kind smile. "I'm very sorry for the Minister's actions. My lot should be under the name Potter and the Minister's under Fudge. A gentleman under the name Black will be joining us later in the evening."

The young man hastily scanned his clipboard, stuttering as he went. Harry waited patiently, still smiling. Eventually the man managed to find them and point them in the same direction that the Weasleys had been led by the escort, who was walking back towards them through the tents as if summoned. Harry thanked the young man again and when he shook his hand Hermione thought she heard the sound of metal clinking together but she brushed it off. As they stepped into the camp the escort approached them. He was a tall, bald man with no beard but a large moustache that twisted at the ends.

"Harry, I-" Cornelius began but Harry cut him off.

"I'm very sorry, Minister, but you'll have to excuse us, it's been a tiring journey and Hermione and I need some rest, enjoy the match."

And with that Harry turned with Hermione to walk with the escort who led them through the tents, leaving Cornelius behind without an escort.

"Did you just yell at and walk away from the Minister for Magic?" Hermione asked, amazed.

"Yes, why?" Harry said as if he did it every day.

"Nothing, just that he's the bloody _Minister for Magic_ and you just floored him!"

"Cornelius knows who he wants in his good books," Harry chuckled, the anger Hermione had seen before completely gone, "it just so happens that I'm one of those people. He also knows I can end his career in a moment if I wanted to."

"How's that?"

"Fudge may have influence with the papers, but he doesn't have more than the person who _owns_ the papers," Harry said with a smirk.

"Don't tell me, you own the Prophet?"

"Indeed I do, as well as Witch Weekly, The Goblin Gazette, The Pixie Post and the Quibbler, so you can see why Cornelius would want me to like him; it could mean his career. If I tell my editors to start slandering Fudge and drag him through the mud, he'd be out of office by the end of the month, if not the week."

"Here we are, Mister Potter," the escort said as he turned and gestured to a small black tent, very similar to the countless others they had walked past along the way. "A plot directly beside the Weasleys, as requested."

Harry thanked the escort and shook his hand with that same clink noise before he left. Hermione looked at the neighbouring lot and saw a small red tent there, which she found very odd. Harry was about to walk inside the black tent before he realised that Hermione wasn't with him.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

" _All_ of the Weasleys are in there?"

Harry smirked and gestured for her to join him in the tent before he stepped inside. Hermione ducked quite low as she followed him in but was surprised when he head didn't hit the sloping roof of the tent like she thought it would. Instead she gasped when she realised she had walked into a room the size of a circus tent, a huge living room equipped with everything from a TV to a grand piano and a large hearth at the back of the room. Black and green adorned all of the furniture, candelabras lit the room dimly which made everything feel much cosier and passages seemed to lead off to other rooms.

"Hungry?" Harry called as he poked his head out of what must have been the kitchen.

"And tired," Hermione answered as she walked in.

"I'll cook up some breakfast then you can catch up on some sleep. Find a good film to put on," and he disappeared back into the kitchen. Hermione made her way over to the sofa, still admiring the size of the apparantly tiny tent. She searched through the selection of films available and settled on one she had made Harry watch countless times before. Harry eventually came walking back in and sat down with a tray, complete with everything from fried bacon to croissants, sausages and buttered toast. Assuming this was all achieved with a healthy bit of magic to speed up the process, Hermione grabbed a small plate and made herself a tasty breakfast, while Harry nibbled at the toast and sausages. She curled up on the sofa and rested her head against the cushioned backboard, which she found surprisingly comfortable for a sofa in a tent, feeling the pull of sleep on her. Her eyes slowly became darker and before long she was sleeping.

* * *

Hermione didn't open her eyes when she first awoke, she was far too comfortable to move at the moment. The sofa seemed a lot comfier than she remembered when she first sat down but she was so tempted by sleep that she didn't truly acknowledge it. She forced her eyes open to stop herself from falling asleep again and was shocked to see a leg sticking out from beneath her cheek. Somehow during her sleep she had come to lie down on the sofa with her head resting on Harry's lap, who didn't seem to have even noticed. Harry had also evidently summoned over a divine fur blanket which now lay across Hermione, only adding to her desire to stay asleep.

"You're awake," Harry said softly.

"As are you," Hermione said as she sat up again, trying her best to not look embarrassed. Harry seemed to have not moved the whole time they had napped, aside from his head which had been gently inclined upwards, though he had now turned to look at Hermione.

"I was never asleep," Harry said as he gave his glasses a quick clean, "I meditate rather than nap, helps rest the mind without actually sleeping." He stood from the sofa and made his way over to the opening of the tent as Hermione wrapped herself in the fur blanket again. Harry seemed to be looking out of the tent for something when suddenly an owl swooped into the tent and landed on his outstretched arm, a few small envelopes clutched in its talons. Harry cooed the owl and stroked it's chin with his forefinger, the owl nuzzling back. After a moment he flicked his wrist behind him and a jar on a counter at the other end of the room flung open, a pair of Owl Treats floating out and shooting over to his hand. He fed one to the owl as he took the letters from its claws and made them levitate in the air beside him before giving it the second treat as the owl took flight once more and left the tent.

"Anything interesting?" Hermione asked as Harry rifled through the letters.

"One from Remus keeping me updated on business affairs... one from Ron letting me know that they're off into the markets and to call him when we want to join them... and one from Ludo Bagman reminding me that we are invited to the Minister's Box for the match and that "one should dress appropriately for the event." I hope Ron remembered to tell Luna that we'd be in the box, hopefully Arthur will have done at least, Ron's useless for remembering stuff like that."

"It's not Ron we've got to worry about," Hermione said, realising she had only packed pyjamas and a spare set of clothes for the trip, "I didn't know we'd be in the Minister's Box, I've only packed regular clothes."

Harry's face was blank for a second as he seemed to spin a hundred thoughts in his head at once before smiling.

"Not to worry, I know just the person to help," Harry said at last as he walked over to the hearth at the back of the room and summoned some floo powder from a separate room. Hermione turned to watch as Harry said: "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions," and threw the powder into flames, turning them green, and plunging his face straight into it. Hermione rose from the sofa and walked over beside him as he spoke. "Madam Malkin? Are you there? Oh good, sorry to interrupt you in the middle of a fitting, I was wondering if you could do me a favour? It would be a great help to me if you could cancel your appointments for the day and come to meet me at my lot at the Quidditch World Cup, it's rather urgent. You'll be compensated for your entire day's work, of course... excellent, Madam, you've saved my skin! I'll send word to the doorman that you're here on my business, he should let you straight through. We'll see you shortly." Harry removed his head from the fire and brushed off what little ash had gotten onto his clothes. "Problem solved."

"Just like that?" Hermione asked, bewildered.

"Just like that." Harry confirmed.

"You got her to cancel _all_ of her appointments just to come here?"

"Not _just_ to come here, she's going to fit you for a dress too."

"Why would she do that?"

"Because it's her job."

"No- why would she drop all of her appointments for the day just for this?"

"Because she knows I pay well, more than she'll earn in a week there just by coming here when I need her. I just hope I'm not cancelling appointments on anyone I know or I'll have some apologies to make." Harry scribbled a note onto a piece of nearby parchment and enclosed it in an envelope holding the letter in the palm of his hand, whispering to it, then blowing it gently into the fire, where the smoke carried it up and out of the tent. "Neat little trick Dumbledore taught me a couple years back, useful for short distance letter-sending. Now, it will take some time for Madam Malkin to arrive, shall we join the others in the market?"

* * *

Madam Malkin rushed back from the fireplace to finish off measuring the old gentleman who had come to have his dress robes adjusted.

"Got to rush I'm afraid, sir; urgent business just come through, I've got to be leaving as soon as possible."

"Not to worry, Madam, I don't expect to have changed much since the last time I was fitted," the man chuckled, though Madam Malkin thought his voice sounded unnaturally gruff. Fortunately the man was right, what few adjustments needed to be made to his suit took little time and he was finished in a few minutes. Madam Malkin escorted him and his cleanly wrapped suit over to the counter.

"That should be all ready for you, sir. That will be one galleon and three sickles please, Mister...?" Madam Malkin began, awaiting a response.

"Bryce," the man said as he handed over the coins, "Frank Bryce."

"Well, it's been a pleasure, Mister Bryce."

"To you as well, Madam Malkin," Frank said as he turned and left the shop.

* * *

Hermione had never seen such a collection of witches and wizards before. Flags of all countries and teams Hermione didn't recognise flew in the air, fireworks exploded every now and again despite it being the middle of the day, stalls called out offering exclusive products and discounts for certain customers (Harry was recognised by more than a few merchants and would be offered outrageous discounts). Hermione and Harry had managed to find the Weasleys fairly easily as, when all together, they were hard to miss in a crowd. She and Harry now both donned mixed Ireland and Bulgaria scarves as well as several pin badges and other novelty items. Harry had also bought a pair of omnioculars for himself and Hermione at a ridiculously discounted price, while Ron had bought himself a miniature Viktor Krum figure which flew around on a Firebolt.

"Oh no," Harry said suddenly.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"It's Rita- hide your face!" Harry said as he quickly turned his head away and pretended to look at a set of glass scales.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione pressed as she too turned to look at the scales.

"Harry!" a high pitched, irritable voice called from nearby and Hermione had a sneaking suspicion she had just found out who Rita was.

"Shit," Harry cursed as he turned away from the stall and Hermione did the same. A blonde woman with horn-rimmed glasses and a glittering green outfit cam strutting towards them, her lips pursed into a smile as she approached. "Rita... didn't think we'd see you here," Harry said, though his tone was not friendly. Rita, however, didn't seem to notice this.

"You know me, Harry dear; if there's somewhere to be then you know I'll be there," Rita chimed, now standing in front of the pair, still smiling.

"Of course, how could I forget?" Harry said dryly. Hermione couldn't help but find it slightly amusing how many people Harry seemed to be meeting today that he didn't want to talk to. "How can I help you?"

"Well a cheeky exclusive interview would-"

"You know full well I won't be interviewed for your magazine, Rita," Harry said, cutting Rita off.

"Oh come now, Harry! Let's let bygones be bygones and move forward, shall we? You know all my readers at the Skeeter Gazette are just _dying_ to hear from you!" Rita insisted, already taking out her notepad.

"The day you show me that you can write an actual news article without having to resort to petty insults, blatant lies or your Quick Quotes Quill"-Hermione thought she saw something feather-like sink down into Rita's handbag-"then I will consider an interview with you. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have to get going, enjoy the match Rita."

And with that Harry gently lead Hermione through the market and away from Rita, who was grumpily stashing her notepad back into her bag.

"Who was she?" Hermione asked.

"A pain in my arse," Harry replied as they weaved their way through the throngs of people, trying to find the Weasleys again, "she used to work for the Prophet before I came to own it but even then she wasn't liked very much. She never got her facts right, filled her articles with her untrue slander and I don't think she ever wrote anything without the help of her Quick Quotes Quill. When I was young and showing signs of magic she published an article about why I shouldn't be allowed into Hogwarts because I was destined to be the next Dark Lord and should be banned from the magical community immediately."

"That's awful... so, when you bought the Prophet, what did you do?"

"I sacked her."

"Good," Hermione said simply with a chuckle from Harry. Before long they found the Weasleys admiring broomsticks at a rather large stall with many customers. The stall sold everything from the latest brooms and uniforms signed by famous players to maintenance kits and tuning tools for all different kinds of brooms. Harry bought himself some broom oil and tweezers as well as some polish -("Look after your your broom, Hermione, and your broom will look after you")- and had them set for delivery back to his tent when an owl swooped down and landed on his shoulder, clutching a letter in its beak. Harry took the letter and broke the seal, reading it quickly before setting it aflame as the owl took flight again.

"Madam Malkin's arrived at the entrance but there seems to have been a problem, I'll have to go and collect her. Are you ready?" Hermione nodded and Harry signalled to Ron that they were leaving, who gave a simple thumbs up in reply. As they walked back, Hermione asked what the delay could have been but Harry wasn't sure himself. "It could be anything, extra security so they need to double-check that I did ask her here, could be as simple as the guy who read my letter has left and a new staff member hasn't been told she was arriving."

"Maybe you messed up the spell earlier and the letter never arrived," Hermione suggested with a smirk.

"That is a possibility," Harry laughed, "but I'm _pretty_ sure I did it right."

Hermione didn't realise how close they had been the whole time as it was only a couple of minutes before they were back in front of the small black tent again. Hermione went inside to wait while Harry left to retrieve Madam Malkin, but as she entered the tent she froze. Asleep on a cushion on the sofa where she and Harry had been not too long before was a black cat. Was it a stray? Perhaps it was one of Harry's pets that he hadn't mentioned to her. Had it been in the tent the entire time and Hermione hadn't noticed? Unsure of what to do, Hermione slowly made her way over to the sofa and sat on the opposite side from the cat, turning on the TV and hoping the cat didn't wake up. It wasn't long before Harry returned with a squat, plump woman with a large handbag, a beehive hairstyle and thin glasses who he quickly introduced as Madam Malkin. Madam Malkin sat down her handbag and out flew a magical tape measure and several pencils all making notes and drawing sketches in a notebook.

"Already hard at work," Harry chuckled, turning to see the black cat still asleep on the sofa and not looking at all perturbed.

"Is that your cat?" Hermione asked, hoping she had done the right thing by not throwing it out.

"No, no, I don't own her," Harry said before whistling a small tune. The cat awoke and glanced around the room at all the occupants before hopping down from the sofa and approaching Harry, who held his arm out at an odd angle. The cat then leapt up onto his outstretched arm and quickly crawled up it onto his shoulder, where it perched itself. "She's more of a... friend of the family. I'd better start getting ready too, actually."

"Does the match start this early?" Hermione asked, unsure of the time but knowing it was somewhere in the early afternoon.

"Well the match won't begin until the evening but guests in the Minister's Box are unofficially expected to mingle for a while beforehand and get the press out of the way. I wouldn't be surprised if Arthur has already tricked the other Weasleys back into their tent to prepare too."

And with that Harry walked down a corridor and out of sight, muttering to the cat as he went. Madam Malkin finished making adjustments in her notebook and gestured for Hermione to sit with her on the sofa.

"Now then, let's show him how ladies dress to impress, shall we?" She said with a smirk. Hermione had a feeling she was going to like Madam Malkin.

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter and again sorry for the gaps between updates. Feel free to leave a review as they're all appreciated. Next chapter is already in the works so hopefully I'll have it up before too long :).**


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